Harry Potter 1. 1: Compass

**Chapter 1: Compass**

**Title: ** Unexpected Choices

**Author: **Miishii

**Category: **Harry Potter

**Main Pairing: **N/A

**Disclaimer: **The world and Characters of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. I tried to kidnap them all once with a devious plan involving three paper clips, four miles of yarn and an entire silo full of grapes… but what is easily executed in theory can go horribly, _horribly_ wrong in reality…my therapist says I'm making great progress though and they'll try letting me out of the jacket next week... d-(^o^)-b

**Warning: **There are scenes of violence and course language, viewer discretion is advised. Also a few facts will and have been changed since nothing ever is the same when different choices are made. I am not all that sane so you have been warned. Oh yeah, there is abuse in this story. Lots and lots of abuse…

**A/N: **Just to let you all know I am all for the Slash, the Yaoi, a supporter of the limp wrists if you will. As such many of my stories will feature such relations and if you can't handle it then don't read! Honestly, if you ignore such warnings then you deserve to get offended. Just saying, If you still want to read then continue, Much love!

ooo

Choice: it is defined as an act of selecting or making a decision when faced with two or more possibilities. But such explanations don't tell us the difficulty of making such decisions or how in the choosing your life can be changed, and so can the very course of fate itself, forever…

ooo

Stormy grey eyes stared silently up at the black tapestry hanging in place of the green and silver house crest that had once hung above the dark and noble table of Slytherin. The whole Hall was shrouded with black, the mood somber and the atmosphere heavy as people trudged in and sat down quietly. Even the most rambunctious students sensed the tension in the air and kept their heads down, their moods dampened and subdued. The usual lively end of the year feast was thus far muffled and burdened with the weight of death, the silence at the Hufflepuff table made conversation difficult and those who did choose to speak did so at a whisper. All the Slytherin's could feel the tension in the air and their small group became even more isolated with it, suspicious eyes of the other houses driving them further into themselves as they met stare for glare. It was almost as if with one mind they filed in and sat silently at their table. Not a single Slytherin spoke, not a single one moved. Their eyes, like Draco's, stared up at the black banners above them, faces set in stone. They knew, better then anyone, what those black banners meant for them and their world.

They knew the moment the feast ended their lives would then forever begin to change.

"The end," As one the Slytherins turned their heads to face Dumbledore who now stood addressing the entire school, his eyes sad an his expression…old. "of another year." Draco had been the only Slytherin who had not moved at the sound of the headmasters voice, his eyes almost serenely staring at the gently swaying black fabric of the tapestry above him. He didn't look away.

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight, but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here enjoying our Feast with us." Grey eyes finally let themselves slide over to the headmaster, who stood for once in normal black robes and raised one wizened hand and goblet towards the ceiling as he spoke to the subdued children before him. "I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory"

They did it, all of them, Draco's chilling glare rousing the straggling Slytherins as benches scrapped the floor. The entire hall stood and raised their glasses and as one spoke in a loud, low, rumbling voice, "Cedric Diggory" A few students shivered at the intensity of that joined voice the walls of the school seeming to dull in sadness from it.

Draco glanced at his Slytherins, their faces pale for reasons other then the death of a schoolmate. Diggory had been a pureblood and a well liked one, even amongst the damned of Hogwarts. He would be missed. Benches scrapped the floor once more as all resumed their seated positions, the Hufflepuffs no longer held back their tears and sobs broke out among them. Dumbledore continued on. "Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities which distinguish Hufflepuff house. He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker and he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about. " Draco lowered his head in respect for the dead and it was with lead in his stomach that he, and the rest of Slytherin, listened to the words they knew to be true but dreaded to hear.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort"

A panic whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief and horror, only the Slytherins did not act surprised and all seemed unaffected by the news. But a keen eye would be able to detect the slight tremor that shook them and how several paled at the confirmation of Voldemorts return. For most the choice they would face was clear and easily set, but for others there would be no choice for them. Their paths where paved for them the moment the monster rose from his assumed death. Draco and his friends would be given no choice for they where groomed for the darker side since the very day of their birth.

"What are we going to do?" Came the frightened whisper on his left. Dumbledore continued with his speech as Draco turned towards Crabbe whose face was pale and for once without his usual mask of zero rumination. Only Draco knew the true characters of those that most considered his thugs. Despite the popular belief that he had no heart he could feel the usually hardened organ melt for his two followers. They where his only friends and he could see the fear in their faces as they looked to him for guidance, guidance he wished for himself. He knew, deep down, that Crabbe and Goyle may not survive the upcoming war, for there would be one. Lowering his voice he didn't try to sooth their fears for that would be useless to them. They would need the fear to keep them sharp and as a reminder to keep their heads and take caution. "You keep your heads down." He muttered to them, his expression calm "Your fathers are not prominent members in the circle and you're both only 14. The Dark Lord won't be looking towards you for another three to four years."

Hopefully the war would be over by then and which ever side won would be lenient towards the two large brutes he called friends.

"But what about you, Draco? Your Da-"

"Shh"

Goyle stopped speaking and turned to face the front with no argument or hesitation. Their trust in Draco's decisions was still as strong and true as when they where toddlers. While the mask Draco wore was usually of a coldhearted snake and bully, Crabbe and Goyle hid behind partially faked idiocy. While not complete morons, Inbreeding has caused a few deficiencies to their learning abilities. Crabbe, for instance, suffered from a sever case of Dyslexia which often caused him to react in anger from the frustration of it and Goyle suffered from short-term memory loss. It was random at times but often took hours and hours of repetition to keep what they learned in school to stick. It was only Draco who had been patient enough to befriend them as children and it was his stubbornness that refused to let him give up on them. As he held their true selves secret, they held his. Dumbledore and everyone else in the hall began to stand again each reaching for their goblets.

Draco didn't move. He wouldn't toast to pure luck for it would just encourage such reckless behavior and he refused to toast to someone who where so lost in their own self pity that they missed the obvious things right in front of them. Wizarding savior his ivory white arse, a true savior would save everyone…not just those society deemed 'good' or 'light'. As everyone else rose Draco stayed seated with his back straight and posture rigid. He could feel Harry's eyes on him and turned to meet those cursed green orbs. Grey and green clashed, and Draco knew that the worst would be thought of him again. He could see it in the anger that flickered like fire in the other boy's expression and he knew that any hope he had of freeing his two friends from their fate died the moment Harry looked away and the great hall spoke as one once more.

"To Harry Potter…"

ooo

The rest of Dumbledore's speech was ignored, the feast passing by quickly and the somber group of Slytherins all rose and exited the great hall as one, their departure like a fading shadow. Draco was silent as he and his year mates made their way into their dormitory and the separate years divided and filtered out as the sixth and seventh years called council in the common room. Despite the fact that they did this routinely at the end of every year everyone knew it wasn't to advise the sixth years as usual, the younger snakes knew it was a meeting in regards to more serious matters.

A dark pair of eyes caught his own and Draco nodded to Blaise as the other indicated towards one of the many nearly hidden doors leading away from the common room. Snapping his fingers Draco caught the attention of Crabbe and Goyle and motioned towards Zambini, they both nodded and lumbered after the other and out of the room as Draco turned to follow. Their silent colloguy hadn't been noticed and the others made it out of the common room unhindered and unseen, but Draco had no such luck, for as he turned he caught another's eye and his departure was prevented. He forced himself not to jump or even twitch as a large hand fell upon his shoulder and clamped down like a vice causing his expression to tighten as he fought off a wince. He knew for a fact he was going to bruise and he calmly regarded the owner of the hand with cold eyes.

"Flint" Draco acknowledged looking coolly down at the others hand still grasping his shoulder and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the appendage. The taller youth didn't get hint and instead tightened his grip as he smiled with crooked teeth and squinty eyes, his head bent forwards as he looked down at the small boy in his grasp.

"Draco" He grinned and Draco found himself staring at the others teeth thinking over all the spells he knew that could straighten them out. Why the other had never gotten them fixed he may never know but they made him even more grotesque then he already was. Flint didn't seem to notice Draco's distraction and tried to steer the other towards the couches. "Where do you think you are running off to? We called council did we not?" Draco was like a stone and he ignored the painful and rather forceful pressure on his shoulder, not moving an inch. In all appearances they where just talking, but a battle of strength and wills was being fought as Draco felt his calves strain against the pull on his shoulder. You don't know how hard it is to keep your posture perfect and expression relaxed when a gorilla that was beaten with the ugly stick is yanking on your upper body.

"If you have forgotten, Flint, I am a fourth year. It will be two more years before I am to sit a council, why I am being reminded of _this_ years council escapes me." The entendre was not lost on Flint. Why would Draco need to talk about the war when he was not yet of age for it. They all knew the dark Lord would not be looking to recruit a bunch of children, but rather capable adults that had enough power to be of assistance to the cause. Flint's eyes narrowed and his smile caused Draco to suddenly feel nervous as the grip on his shoulder relaxed completely until the hand just sat there.

"You should know better then anyone, seeing who your father is." The air in the common room suddenly became tense and the hand on his shoulder slipped up towards Draco's cheek, one long finger trailing down it almost like a tear as the other snorted slightly and shook his head. "Keep lying to yourself Malfoy but you and I both know we'll be seeing each other again real soon…"

The eyes of the older Slytherins could be felt on him as his hmm'd as if disinterested at Flints insinuation, pale hands calmly smoothing out the rumples Flints grip had put in his robes before he let stormy grey eyes glare up at the other youth. Flint seemed like a fool under that gaze and Draco watched the others face heat up in anger, his fists clenching with it. Draco sneered at the others lack of control and sniffed in a snotty way as he turned to leave, his pace even and graceful as he made his way to where his friends where most assuredly waiting for him. Flint's voice called out after him causing him to pause, his hand on the door handle as the others words cut deep into his mind.

"You're no better then any of us Malfoy, You'll see. The Dark Lord will brand you and like the rest of us you'll bow because that is the path that you where groomed for! You can't escape fate Malfoy! Remember whose side you're on."

Draco lifted his head and gazed back at all the sixth and seventh years staring at him, and tilted his head to the side a little. The temperature of the room dropped drastically with his gaze yet a small smile graced his face. Without a word Draco left the still and silent room, no one moving until the door slid shut with a quiet 'thd'.

ooo

The door that Draco had taken lead him down a small tunnel like passage which branched off at random times and twisted at odd moments. Doors appeared and disappeared as he walked down the darkened path and candles caused strange shadows to dance on cold stone walls. It was never questioned as to why the Slytherins referred to their house dormitories as the snake den but most did not know the double meaning behind those words. No one outside of Slytherin knew about the tunnels and no one in Slytherin knew the tunnels better then Draco. Yet even he knew he wasn't even close to discovering all the secrets that lay within his own house dormitories and he doubted he ever would. It wasn't long until light illuminated the halls from behind a closed wooden door and Draco rapped a knuckle against it a few times quietly, the slightly muffled knock echoing eerily into the darkness.

He wasn't surprised when the door was swept open roughly and he was practically carried into the room by an over excited Goyle. He patiently waited while the other checked him over and sighed as the bigger boy slowly calmed down. When they had first arrived at Hogwarts the older Slytherins had taken it upon themselves to haze the younger years but it was a well known fact amongst the three friends that when Draco got scared or embarrassed he got snippy, a fact which didn't go over well when facing the mean spirited youth of Slytherin. Most often then not Draco returned with his body more injured then his pride. He never once outed those who did it nor did he back down. In fact he retaliated in such a way no one could actually pin the acts on him. He was silent in his retribution and it gained him the respect and fear of his fellow Slytherins. For the last four years his reputation grew and soon he made a name for himself as Slytherin's Ice prince. He displayed the same aloofness now in the presence of Zambini and controlled his friend with merely a look.

Goyle backed off allowing Draco to properly enter the room under his own power and it gave the smaller a chance to look around. It was a sitting room, with a small table low to the ground and close to the large and roaring fireplace. The stone itself was not the dull grey one most often saw on the upper floors but had been enchanted to keep a silver sheen to it instead. The furniture was of black twisting metal and padded with deep green cushions and the ceiling above them was carved stone that rose in a dome shape above them giving the illusion of wide space. Movement drew his eyes towards the figure sitting calmly on a chair by the fire, his legs crossed and gaze fixed on the flickering flames.

"What kept you?"

Blaise Zambini was a tall dark skinned youth whose mother was far freer with herself then she was with her money. He had garnered most of his appearance from his mother, with dark eyes and long lashes that brushed against smooth skin. He moved with liquid grace that Draco had to admit made him a bit jealous at times and had more muscle then he should at fourteen. With broad shoulders indicating towards more expected growth Blaise Zambini was often the topic of most girls gossip. Not that there was a lot to gossip about besides his appearance, for Zambini was a mystery even unto his own house. His family had always been neutral between the light and dark, and he had no close friends, choosing instead the companionship of a good book rather then social chatter. He strayed away from the limelight and was often overlooked or forgotten by his peers.

Draco could recall the only moments he actually spent with Zabini, besides meals and class, was when they shared their routine meeting in the library where they sat silently next to each other without a word between them and studied or read until they both stood and left without a sound. He had never been called out by the boy before and Draco could think of nothing the other would want to talk to him about and he was immensely curious as to why Zambini did so now.

Zambini waited for Draco's answer, which came naught a moment after the others question. "Flint" he said crisply with all honesty in his voice. He was not planning on elaborating on it beyond that and refreshingly enough the other youth didn't pry but instead leaned forwards and motioned for Draco to sit across from him, Crabbe and Goyle standing sentry by the door. As Draco gracefully took his seat Zambini got straight to the point.

"You are probably wondering why I am here." It was blunt and something that amused Draco immensely, for he figured Zambini would be one to verbally dance rather then plow forwards.

"It was a question that had occurred to me, yes"

"I am here in regards to anonymous parties which seek council. Your council to be exact, and they wish for your guidance." Draco's eyebrow rose and he tensed slightly, the only indication to his nervousness at such a declaration. "They are torn between their families, lineage, blood and friends and are unable to lay loyalties to any specific group. So they asked me to relay a message. They pledge their loyalties …to you." Draco no longer tried to hide his surprise.

"I beg your pardon?"

Zambini seemed pleased with his reaction and reached into his robes, groping around until his hand clasped onto something. Without flourish or emotion he pulled a thick vellum envelope from it's hidden spot within his robes, the color of it contrasting drastically with the others dark skin and black uniform. He held it towards the still stunned Draco. "Within this envelope are a list of names which pledge themselves to you and your leadership, a secret alliance with you as their figurehead. They will follow you, whatever your decision. It's enchanted, if you accept the responsibility you may open it and thus agree to a vow of secrecy, otherwise throw it into the fire without breaking the seal and walk away."

Grey eyes met brown and Draco put on an expression of arrogance and gloating. "I'm a Malfoy, its only natural that others would notice my importance and acknowledge it." A chuckle escaped him but Zambini didn't pull the envelope away, nor did his expression change. Instead those deep eyes stared right through him and Draco dropped the act, his stance no longer one of arrogance but of nervousness as he hesitantly took hold of the envelope. "What makes you so sure of me? Don't you believe I'd abuse this? I'm a prat after all. I'm a Malfoy, evils spawn, the most Slytherin, the most pure."

Zambini leaned back and regarded the blond before him and nodded. "You're right." He stood and smoothed out his robes. "You _are_ the most pure." Draco's expression didn't change but Zambini could feel the others confusion. "It has been noticed." He said quietly and his eyes flicked towards the door where Crabbe and Goyle still stood. Draco's eyes widened slightly but he said nothing. Zambini merely smiled and headed towards the door as Draco's gaze fell to the envelope and he fingered the seal while leaning towards the fire.

What was he to choose?

He looked up at Zambini when the other paused at the door. "Our lives are made up of choices Draco, and despite what you think there is _always_ a choice. You have a list of those who believe in you and will follow you no matter your choice, but it is up to you what direction that choice will take you." Their eyes met once more "You're not alone in this Draco, you will find that there are many who would willingly go to war for you, I should know…" He opened the door and stepped into the hall "I'm one of them."

The door shut quietly yet the sound was heavy in the now silent room.

Draco could only stare at the spot Zambini had previously stood, his mind having gone blank. When the bloody hell did people start to actually _like_ him? Or see him as anything besides the evil, cold-hearted prince he posed himself to be? Where had he messed up? _'It has been noticed'_ that's what Zambini had said. Did they see the truth behind his closeness to his thugs? Did they notice the friendship? How would that make him trustworthy enough to lead people into war, or choose their side? Why had the other announced his loyalty to Draco when his family had always been neutral? Would he willingly throw himself into battle because of Draco's say so?

"Why?" Draco asked quietly as Crabbe flopped into Zambini's empty seat. Goyle came up behind Draco's chair and Draco could feel their silent communication over his head. "The light side has their savior…now those lost to the light need one too" Crabbe muttered quietly, his voice a comforting rumble in the quiet of the room.

"Yeah," Goyle piped up from behind Draco's chair "And you're the 'prince' remember? Where would you be without your loyal subjects?" Draco aloud a chuckle to escape him since it was what Gregory had been going for and gave his friends a small smile as his eyes fell to stare at the fire once more.

ooo

_To my most noble son and heir,_

_I send this letter in anticipation of your return to the Manor this upcoming summer as well as to inform you of our newly arrived guest, a traveling lord, who has taken up residence in our most honored home. It is to our great pleasure that he has chosen our manor to reside in and you shall be required, upon your return, to help see to it that he is comfortable and taken care of in a manner befitting of a Malfoy._

_He is a wise and noble man and it is my expectations as your sire and father that you will not waste this opportunity to learn form his knowledge and experience. He is reclusive and of a quiet nature and wishes to stay out of the limelight, for his name is widely known, until he deems it desirable to make his appearance once more into society. Understand me when I say that it is required that you keep his appearance at our home silent and bound, even unto your close friends. I believe that it doesn't need to be said that you must evince a manor that is befitting of a Malfoy at all times whilst our lord is here._

_Your mother sends her love and we await your return,_

_Lord Lucius Malfoy_

ooo

The universe was mocking him, Draco was sure of it. He knew from the moment he awoke to Pansy's cheerful singing and it was confirmed when a smiley face pancake appeared in front of him at breakfast. It was clear to him that the galaxy was trying to shove the happiness of everyone else down his throat while his own life was spiraling down the loo. It was with a disturbing amount of malicious glee that he mutilated that damned happy breakfast, despite his lack of appetite. The atmosphere of the day was the exact opposite of Draco's inner mood; one that was caused by the by the knowledge he now bore and the choices he was soon to be forced to make.

What he wouldn't give, if for just a moment, to be anyone but whom he were. Then he could run to a teacher or hell, even to Dumbledore, without the fear of suspicion or distrust. But then if he _were_ someone other then who he was he wouldn't need to. He'd be just like everyone else, laughing and running around like a barbarian, with no need to hide behind a societal mask to appease his father or to keep appearance for his mother. Everything he was had been forged by his parents, he never had to face anything for himself before.

His choices, his decisions he never really made any for himself. He was in Slytherin because that was where Malfoy's went; the hat chose that for him. His friends, his prejudices, even what he wore each day, was all chosen for him. He never had to _choose_ anything before. When he was a child if he saw two toys he liked he never had to pick one over the other for his parents would buy both. He never had to actually _do_ anything for himself; house elves did it for him. For his _entire life_ he was cared for. Now he faced a choice that could not be made for him, now he was to choose not only for himself but for others as well.

What was he to choose?

Sighing Draco looked away from the happy students milling below him and instead raised his eyes to the cloudless blue sky above. The astronomy tower was the perfect place for when Draco needed solitude; it was a spot many would not venture to unless forced. Seemingly endless stairs discouraging any thoughts the lazy students of Hogwarts may have ever had of venturing up those ancient steps.

It was Draco's favorite spot and had been since he first came to the place while he had been spying on Potter and his friends in first year. He hadn't intentionally gotten them in trouble either but had merely wanted to see the dragon they had been carrying. He apparently still had a lot to learn about sneaking around then because he had no idea he had been spotted until McGonagall had materialized out of the shadows behind him, she had scared him enough that he couldn't stop the words that escaped him as he tried to save his own butt from getting into trouble. He told the hardheaded woman that he had been trying to find _her_ since it was her students that he had overheard getting into mischief.

She had not believed him until she had caught the two dorks at it. Then she had tried to even it out by punishing _him_ as well. The golden trio had not been pleased, to say the least and bore even more resentment and animosity towards Draco from that moment on. Even McGonagall seemed to think bad of him and he was sure, that had he been a Griffindor, she would have rewarded him instead of punishing him. Being a Slytherin had taught him to be used to being judged unfairly but that had been the first time he noticed it in the teachers as well. I mean think about it, the trio had disregarded all personal safety and the rules when they had gone after the troll but they had been rewarded for it. But he gets out of bed and gets punished? Not fair I tell you!

Shaking his head at the memory Draco huffed out a breath of air and used a tempus spell to note the hour. He sighed when he realized he had stalled as long as he dare and took only the briefest of glimpses to look out at a sight he had a feeling he would not see in a good long while. Then, without pause, he turned away and began his descent back into the castle.

It was time to return home.

ooo

"_Lord Voldemorts gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open…"_

Dumbledore's words echoed through his brain as Draco sat silently with his two friends as the train sped southwards towards London. The world blurred together outside the window and Draco sat without moving whilst he stared at the passing scenery. He spoke not a word as his eyes fixed themselves on the colors flying passed them and his hands clasped an ever-ink quill and a pad of parchment before him. This was a common occurrence with Draco, for him to be writing something or jotting his thoughts down but what was _not_ common was his lack of movement and it was this particular lack of animation that had his friends staring at him instead of their usual game of exploding snap.

He didn't notice Vincent and Gregory as they shared a worried look before they continued to stare at him in silence. Draco sat in a way that made you think of royalty for he _lounged_ in the hard seats of the train rather then slumping or slouching like a normal teenager. He didn't fidget or twitch or move save for the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, and had it not been for that repetitive movement he could have been thought petrified or dead. The usual pile of summer homework sat completed and safely tucked in a dragonhide folder with the Malfoy crest embroidered on the lower left corner, safe and ready for when he gave it to Gregory to study over the summer. It was an annual thing for Draco to finish his summer homework before ever leaving the school and giving it to his two friends to study over the summer. Vincent would help Gregory by tutoring him thus improving his own grades and Gregory would read Draco's homework repetitively until he could easily understand what was wanted of them and do his own. Spells kept his homework crisp and clean and the folder made sure nothing got lost or misplaced. It was a system Draco had started when they had first begun their education and it still held true to this day. It worked and that was all that mattered to Draco.

Draco had a fear that this may be the last time he and his friends shared such preparations for their futures and he knew he would do anything to make sure they had one. Dumbledore's words filtered through his head again and he came to a decision. "I think," Draco began and paused to blink in confusion at his two friends gasping and clutching themselves on the ground. He hadn't taken note of the rising tension in the compartment and had been oblivious to the silence that had stretched for the last hour. His words had not only cut through the silence but it had startled his friends out of their seats.

"What are you two doing?" He asked in an exasperated and amused tone, raising an eyebrow elegantly as he tilted his head to the side to stare at his weird friends. They where predictable but sometimes, like now, they confused him.

Gregory righted himself and shared a look with Vincent that made Draco realized he had missed something. Waving his hand pompously he brushed the thought aside. "Anyway as I was saying, I think he should try…er asking, I mean…" Draco stumbled over the words, the sentence being harder to spit out verbally then it had been to think up in his head. Clenching his teeth together he reluctantly drawled out the words that he knew would haunt him in the future.

"I think we should ask Potter and the golden for help."

Silence blanketed the compartment once more as Draco was looked at in shock. His friends could not believe the words they had just heard and Draco took their shock quite calmly, even if he suddenly felt like washing his mouth out. Ew gross, next thing you know he'd be saving people, openly defying the dark lord and parading around in red and gold. Colors that would completely clash with his complexion you should know.

"Draco?" Gregory asked confused.

"Wait, what?" Vincent alliterated.

"I said it once and that's all you're getting. Now come on…how bad can it be?"

Draco's face did a weird contortion as he tried to force his expression into one of confidence. He gave up and went for sourly instead, bloody hell but this was going to be painful.

Gregory looked down at the scowling blond and followed the other out into the hall, Vincent brining up the rear.

"Right…hopefully he has a plan B"

He sighed as he slid the door shut behind him.

* * *

><p>Voices drifted out passed the closed compartment door and Draco had to try several times to work up the courage to open it. This may amuse you but it's bloody well harder then it looks and Draco took a look behind him at his two friends, regarding them critically.<p>

"Smile Vincent, Gregory your robes are rumpled." He patted down Gregory's robe and fixed his own hair nervously, stalling for time until he could think of nothing else preventing him from just going into the compartment.

"Try to look friendly, can't have them hexing us before we even ask now can we?" He gave them a smile but it fell quickly and he made sure his wand was close, you know, just in case. He didn't need to look behind him to know Vincent and Gregory were doing the same. "Here goes nothing"

He reached for the door, Grangers voice reaching his ears.

"-ee, so she can't transform. And I've told her she's to keep her quill to herself for a whole year. See if she can't break the habit of writing horrible lies about people."

Draco took a deep breath and opened the compartment door.

"Very clever, Granger" Draco complemented, hoping to get things off on a better note then he usually did. He looked over at Potter and Weasley noting their tension and glares. Granger was calm and held little emotion as she looked at him as if ignoring his presence in the compartment. She was good but Draco was better and he could sense her curiosity.

"So," Draco began, slowly advancing into the compartment deciding to not make any sudden movements. He had heard Hagrid say it was best to approach skittish animals like that, and Weasly was looking twitchy. He tried to smile at them but he could feel it quiver on his lips. "you caught some pathetic reporter, and Potter's Dumbledore's favorite boy again." He narrowed his eyes "Big Deal." If they were celebrating over those matters then they where missing a very big picture. Voldemort was back, as the bloody savior of the wizarding world Draco believed Potter should be more focused on what lies in wait for him now.

Potter avoided his gaze and he could feel it easier to grin.

"Trying not to think about it, are we?" He asked softly looking at the three Griffindors. Draco didn't want to think about it either but it was a subject that couldn't be ignored. Ignoring it lead to being unprepared, they must realize this?

"Trying to pretend it hasn't happened?" He guessed at their faces. They where avoiding it, ignoring it, pretending that the world was still safe and secure and gentle. It wasn't the safe world they had once known. There was a war brewing, and Potter was at its core. They would have to face this fact sooner or later. People where going to die, people they cared about and it was going to happen soon.

Potters face became stony, his eyes beginning to burn behind the vibrant green and his voice was tense when he spoke. "Get out."

Draco could not, and would not, have himself get kicked out before he asked for help. Merlin's Beard Griffindors were a touchy lot. He had yet to say anything insulting or mean and they where already getting tense. Better just get it all out before he was hexed out of the compartment.

"You've picked the loosing side Potter!" He nearly snarled trying to get the other to see reason. Dumbledore was just as bad as Voldemort and Potter was merely a pawn, it was going to get them killed. "I warned you! I told you you ought to chose your company more carefully, remember?" Or at least hide how much they mean to you. Draco knew that displaying such emotions would make such friends targets. It's why no one in his family is overly affectionate, why he was cold to his friends in view of others, and why he couldn't trust himself to get close to anyone. Potters face looked strange so he tried to elaborate, tried to make him remember. "When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around with" His eyes glanced over the weasel who made a rude gesture at him, he scowled "riff-raff like this!" He jerked his head towards Weasley who was being silently reprimanded by Granger.

He felt bad that Potters feelings for them may get them killed and decided to point it out to him "Too late now, Potter! I warned you" The stupid savior should have hidden his feelings better, should have thought about what would happen if his enemies resurfaced. "They'll be the first to go, now that the Dark Lord's back!" He thought back to his father and his malicious smile "Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first!" He quoted as Gregory's eyes fixed themselves on Weasley's hand which had by then crept into his robes. "Well-second," Draco thought out loud "Diggory was the f-" Draco was cut off when the large hands of his friend wrapped themselves about his waste and hoisted him up into the air and against the others broad chest as they spun, the world exploding around them naught a second later.

He was blinded by the blaze of spells that blasted from every direction, deafened by the bangs and nearly crushed when his friends fell unconscious on top of him. He waited, wide eyed as the proverbial dust settled.

"Thought we'd see what those three were up to." Came a voice from beyond the door. Draco Struggled from under his friends and was ignore by the Griffindors entering and residing within the compartment. He in turn ignored them, staring down at the mess his friends where in shock and horror.

"Interesting effect," Came another voice, similar to the first but with a slight difference to it. Draco decided he immediately disliked those voices. For the first time in his life someone actually pissed him off. "INTERESTING EFFECT?" He exploded, rising to his feet and rounding on the identical twins, who quickly backpedalled into the corridor. "INTERESTING EFFECT! WHY YOU BLUBBERING FLEA-INFESTED, MAGGOT EATING SONS OF A WHORE!" A spell came at him from behind and he dodged, the curse hitting the first twin right in the face and doubling him over. Draco spun to face his attacker and was met with three wands. He ignored his own and advanced on the three before him. Ron shot off another spell that Draco allowed to hit him. It was a stinging hex but was nowhere near as painful as a crucio so it was easily ignored. He stayed on course and shoved Granger to the side where she landed rather gracefully onto the seat; Potter was met with a foot to his stomach and a chop to Weasley's hand made him drop the wand. As Potter gasped for air on the ground and Granger stared at him in shock, Draco did what he had wanted to do for a long time. He lifted a hand and backhanded the redhead.

Silence descended on the compartment.

"You judge us," He began glaring down at the 'savior' still on the floor "You judge us But you know nothing of us! You know nothing our history; our culture or our traditions and you dismiss our beliefs out of hand like a child dropping its parents jewels down the crapper! You don't even try to understand why these traditions and beliefs are still around, and why so many of us still believe in them. You will find out, Potter, that there are some things that you cannot comprehend as you are and it is only looking to our past that we find the right path to take. Yet you are so willing to erase all that and repeat the very mistakes our forefathers have written about. To turn a blind eye and deaf ear…" Draco took a step forwards and was staring down at Potter as if regarding him from a higher plane of existence.

"You're ignorant of our ways, blinded by what society thus deems as right. You see the world in black and white, the lines of justice and false truth so finely defined for you by the doddering old fool of a headmaster. You don't even have the common decency to challenge anything your so-called trusted mentors and advisors have fed to you but instead you swallow their poison unthinking. You think naught for yourself but follow the word of others like a sheep led by its Sheppard. In case you've forgotten, Potter, your precious Dumbledore was Grindlewald's best friend and the Dark Lords teacher. He too has been a washed by the darkness and you'll come to see that his light is a false one and not as bright as you would so love to believe, Yes" He hissed smoothly as he leaned towards Potter until their noses nearly touched, green eyes staring wide eyed into molten silver, their magic swelling between them and holding all who were whiteness paralyzed with it. "Who do you think let your precious godfather go to prison without trial?"

He leaned back and tilted his head to the side, his hair settling about his face giving him the appearance of the ice prince he was so widely known as. "Oh yes, I know all about that. I know of his innocence…but then again so did Dumbledor. He was the one, after all, who had to have cast the fidelus charm in the first place, he would have been present for the shift, would have known of Black's innocence. It was he who sent you to your mother's sister, despite your parent's will stating otherwise. He who let your godfather, the one who would have taken you in and raised you, go to prison. For wouldn't it have been a _shame_ to have you raised by someone who loved and cared for you, wouldn't it have been a _shame_ to know about the Dark Lord and Death Eaters from an early age, To start your training and education early so you'd be prepared when the time came, to face the evil that killed your parents with _confidence_. It would have been a _bloody shame_ if you had been raised with wizarding traditions, with _magic_. Would have been against his so well thought out plans for your future if you were able to look at things from all points of view, to be able to see through the coddling lies he's fed you. He keeps things from you doesn't he? He doesn't wish for you to have all the facts because he knows that you may eventually believe yourself an individual rather then his tool martyr. He plans for you to die Potter, we in Slytherin can see this, and then he will once again have the public looking to him, the genteel old man who cradled and mentored you whilst you lived. So here I stand, bearing the cruel truth of the world before you hoping to rid at least some of the rose color from the lenses of those hideous eye sores you call glasses. We came in here seeking help and were met with unwarranted hostility, but you can't change how things were Potter. Only by our choices can we change the paths we're preordained to take. To think I believed you would hear us when you're so collared by falsehoods…"

He sneered and rounded on Granger who shrunk under his gaze. "You dislike being judged by who your parents are, your blood purity and where you come from but you judge us by those standards as well. There is a reason why many in Slytherin despise you. You are a hypocrite and you make assumptions on people without the knowledge you need to do so. Your thoughts are muddled by the books you read and you are blinded by what you _think_ you know." His eyes were like staring into a violent storm, lightening flashed behind them and Granger curled further within herself. "If anything remember this Granger; history is written by the victorious, no fact is truth and only in fiction do we find ourselves honest."

He then rounded on the weasel that was still staring at him in shock, his cheek reddening nicely. Draco sneered at him. "Get over it." He stated before turning on his heel and leaving the three reeling in the compartment as the train sped onwards.

Out in the corridor the twins and Draco stared at each other, one red head continuously bleeding from the nose and kneeling on the ground as he tried to stop the flow. The other twin gripped his wand tightly as he stood slightly in front of his brother as if in anticipation of a dragon attack. Draco immediately knew he was going to hate these particular Weasley offspring as well. But he also knew what he was obligated to do, so he merely reached for his wand; causing both brothers to jump to alertness and point their own wands at him defensively. Draco pointed his to the ground and they relaxed slightly. "I apologize about the slur I made in regards to your mother, my actions where not befitting of my name and I am truly sorry." He gave a small bow before whipping his wand towards the still bleeding nose of one Fred Weasley.

"Hǣlan" he said firmly before either twin could react.

Then, without another word, he left silently casting Leviosa on his two unconscious thugs and floating them down the corridor. Behind him Fred noticed that the bleeding had stopped.

Fred and George looked at each other in confusion.

"Ok, what the bloody hell just happened?"

ooo

It had been two hours after the incident with the so-called golden trio and Draco was still getting the tentacles off Gregory's face. It helped that he knew what spells had been cast but he had no idea what ones had hit which friend. That had taken some time to sort out and despite Vincent complaining about the fact that his nipples where a weird orange he had righted them out the best he could. He was no healer and had no wish to be, wounds and afflictions were just gross after all and he would have to actually _touch_ people. Ew, no…Draco had no desire to be a healer.

Sighing lightly he got ride of the last tentacle and looked over Gregory's face. Well…It looked normal now but Draco had no idea if he was affected anywhere else.

"Vincent, check out Gregory would you?"

Vincent looked up from where he was peering critically down his own shirt, presumably at his discolored nipples, and shrugged. "He looks all right to me." He went back to staring at his own chest while Draco rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant you oaf, Check to see if he has matching nipples or something."

"Not gunna"

"It's 'going to' and why the blooming hell not?"

"I just don't want to stripe my friend, ok?"

"Merlin's Beard Vincent don't be such a baby. Just take a quick look."

"Why don't _you_ look if you're so keen on seeing what Greg's packing."

"Don't make it sound so perverted!"

"It is perverted! You want me to strip my friend while he's unconscious!"

"Is this because of that closet incident in second year?"

"I don't want to talk about it"

"Coming out of the closet with Gregory in nothing but your skivvies is something everyone loves talking about."

Just when Draco feared Vincent was going to get violent with him a groan made them both turn to the unconscious youth between them. "Gregory! Are you ok?"

Gregory Goyle blinked dazedly before rubbing at his head and looking around. "Did I fall asleep or something?" He asked in a confused manner.

"No, some stupid Gryffindors wacked us a good one." Vincent muttered annoyed.

Gregory looked up at Draco. "I don't remember" he said slightly ashamed and lowered his head. Draco placed an arm around his shoulders and knelt down next to him. "It's probably for the best that you don't…er, you had tentacles."

"Tentacles?"

"Yes"

"Where?"

"Your face."

Gregory reach up and felt his face with his hands before breathing a sigh of relief and looking at Draco. "They're all gone?"

"Yes"

"And there where none anywhere else?"

"I don't know."

"What? Why?"

"Because Vincent doesn't love you anymore."

Gregory looked at Draco for a moment in silent communication and Vincent became tense when Gregory turned to look at him, his face a mask of hurt.

"And I thought we had had something special in that closet."

The roar Vincent let out startled not only Gregory but also the Hufflepuff second year passing by their door. The hufflepuff then swore never to choose a compartment near the Slytherins ever again and rushed off to hide out with his friends on the _other_ end of the train.

ooo

But even as Vincent and Gregory false wrestled on the ground, and Draco chuckled safely out of the way, their merriment was short for the train soon slowed, and then stopped. The students disembarking happily to their loving families, laughs and warm embraces filled the platform, and not a solemn face to be seen. That is unless you looked to the Slytherins. No one ever did and as always the Slytherins said goodbye to each other whilst still on the train, out of sight and out of mind, before each went tensely to the house elf or servant waiting for them. It was a rare thing, for a Slytherin, to have their parents personally pick them up; for public displays of affection were frowned upon when someone could use it against you.

It was with silent grace that the Slytherins said their farewells, stepped off the train and disappeared into the milling crowd.

* * *

><p>Word count: 8858<p> 


	2. 2: Crossroads

**Chapter 2: Crossroads**

**Title: ** Unexpected Choices

**Author: **Miishii

**Category: **Harry Potter

**Main Pairing: **N/A

**Disclaimer: **The world and Characters of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. I tried to kidnap them all once with a devious plan involving three paper clips, four miles of yarn and an entire silo full of grapes… but what is easily executed in theory can go horribly, _horribly_ wrong in reality…they tried letting me out of the jacket this week but I bit the chief medical examiner in the boob and I guess that's frowned upon in here. g(*-*)g oh well…

**Warning: **There are scenes of violence and course language, viewer discretion is advised. Also a few facts will and have been changed since nothing ever is the same when different choices are made. I am not all that sane so you have been warned. Oh yeah, there is abuse in this story. Lots and lots of abuse…

**A/N: **Just to let you all know I am all for the Slash, the Yaoi, a supporter of the limp wrists if you will. As such many of my stories will feature such relations and if you can't handle it then don't read! Honestly, if you ignore such warnings then you deserve to get offended. Just saying, If you still want to read then continue, Much love!

ooo

Draco refused to look back towards his two friends as they left the train, refused to take one last look at them as they all departed ways. Gregory had his homework and study materials for the summer and Vincent had the scheduled study guide he had plotted out for them. Vincent also had the revised study guide for when they didn't follow through with the first one. They would be fine without his help this summer, he made sure of it for he had enlisted Pansy to drop in on them without warning at least once a month to scold them back on track since he may not be able to do so.

He had told them all he was going to France for the summer, a lie all of Slytherin could see right through but went along with. It was easier, and safer, that way.

He followed Jacques, a Malfoy servir, across the platform and into the long corridor that was the wizarding entrance to Kings Cross. No one but those in Slytherin even remembered this entrance, and even amongst Slytherin only the moneyed tended to use it. It was something Draco believed even Voldemort had no knowledge of, what with his background, for it was centuries ago that the students suddenly started using the pillar entrance of platform 9¾ from the muggle realm and it had been just as long since the last of them stopped using this one. Very few knew of it and it was maintained by the very magic that sustained it. Draco loved walking that long hall, the old magic that first built the platform washing over his skin like a gentle breeze. Pansy had admitted once that walking down this way gave her the creeps and since second year had refused to use it anymore. Many had followed her example but Draco would not give up the pleasure of that walk, of how comfortable and right it felt. Magic in itself was misunderstood.

Just like a Slytherin.

They say a Slytherin is cowardly, that they harbor an innate evil and selfishness unto themselves that displays them as the slimy, sniveling snakes their house is named for. But no one could possibly imagine the courage it took to calmly leave the safety of Kings Cross and enter the constricting confines of the carriage that would carry Draco home. The home that was currently inhabited by an evil most grown men feared and children had nightmares about; an evil that he'd have to live with for an entire summer.

That is, if he lived through the summer.

Draco knew, as he walked through the wizarding passage of Kings Cross, that he might never walk this way again. It was uncertain what kind of reception he would receive from the underbelly of the magical world and he knew of Voldemorts reputation for senseless killing of his own followers. He was mad, and unstable. It was the kind of personality that would most assuredly clash with Draco's own. It would be a challenge for Draco to keep his tongue, and he feared, deep down, that he may not live to see past fifteen.

The carriage itself was beautiful. Gothic in design, it displayed the wealth and high status of the Malfoys with it's twisting dark wood and black metal. The inside was lined with soft down cushions and window drapes of deep crimson. As Jacques ushered him inside he took a brief look to see that two pure white spirit mares pulled it. The mares often danced in place, their manes made of glittering mist that shifted and dispersed in places as they tossed their heads and their hoofs of white cloud making nary a sound as they touched the cobblestone road. Draco was used to such finery for his family had colligered many such animals, like the mares, into their menagerie. It was something Draco always looked forward to in the summer; spending most of his days taking care of and playing with the many animals the Malfoys owned.

He loved animals.

It was something his father disapproved of, however, for Lucius Malfoy believed that a Malfoy was to own and not love. But Draco did not agree with this, and he would spend most of his time displaying that love privately at home, when no one could see. It had been part of their deal, one that he almost broke in second year, that Draco was to hide this publically and display it privately. Draco sighed as he thought back to first year, before he left home and the deal he made with his father. He wasn't to let anyone know about his 'improper liking of animals' and in return his father would allow him free rein in the menagerie. No more sneaking out to the animals or being punished for feeding the peacocks, or grooming the sphinxes. He would be allowed, in the privacy of his home, to have this one open pleasure.

Of course he had agreed, all he had to do was ignore the animals he found and he'd get along great. But then in second year he had been cooing to that hippogriff and he had caught the attention of a few people. So he braced himself for a world of pain and insulted the poor creature. The reaction had been just as violent as he had expected but he had gotten off light. Just a scratch to the arm but he made a big deal of it anyway just to reaffirm his prat status and get a little attention.

He had no idea how his father found out.

It was his punishment; the death sentence of the hippogriff, and Draco had escaped deep into the Slytherin catacombs to cry when he had heard the news. He hadn't meant for the poor creature to be killed and the guilt of it haunted him still. If only he had refused to go to that class, if only he had chosen something else. But he had been so curious, so excited over learning about animals that he had tossed aside his proper judgment and went anyway.

And someone else paid the price.

Draco shivered internally at the thought, his hands clenching into fists on his lap and in the solitude of that carriage Draco felt a wave of fear and trepidation. Merlin, wasn't that what he was facing now? Whole lists of people, good people, were looking for him to guide them, for him to lead them. But a simple mistake on his part would have someone else paying the price. People could die because of what he may or may not say, of what he may or may not do. With all the crossroads along this path which one was he supposed to take? What decisions are the best ones? Was he expected to take that responsibility upon himself, expected to carry all the guilt of the mistakes he could make?

But what would happen to those people if he didn't?

A knock startled him out of his thoughts, warning him that they where approaching the gates. Draco knew what was waiting for him there but he couldn't help the flutter of excitement he had at being home, figuring that avoidance was the key. He could spend more time with the animals and just stay out of the way. It was the best course to take, really, out of sight out of mind right?

But as he approached the gates Draco felt the tension in the air, the ancestral magic itself letting him knew of its displeasure. He tried to shake the feeling off but it grew inside him like a cancer. He rubbed his palms on his legs, hoping it was just his imagination but he knew, instinctively, that it was not. Huffing in annoyance Draco opened the window drapes expecting to see the Alicantos and the Amphisbaenas at play, for they usually like to follow and dance aside his carriage when he came home. He peered outside, but only empty stillness met him.

Where were the Alicantos, The birds that ate little flakes of gold and reflected the light like precious jewels? He studied the ground as they passed by the gates for the Alicanto was a bird too laden with the metal in its stomach to actually fly. It was a bird from south Africa and one Draco delighted in trying to paint. But he didn't see them. He didn't see the Amphisbaenas either, with their two heads and hoop like figures. They where fun to watch for one head would grasp the other's neck in it's beak to form a hoop or circle with it's body. Then it moves about by rolling itself enabling it to move any which way without getting confused or disjointed by either head. But they too, where missing.

Draco suddenly felt cold and he sat back down in his seat, drawing the curtains shut. He knew he would be seeing no other animals on his way to the mansion and didn't wish to get his hopes up. He feared what had become of them but knew his parents would never just let a collection be destroyed. Even if his father disproved of them they where Draco's and Narcissa's and Draco felt relief in the knowledge that even if his father wished to punish him it was Narcissa he'd have to answer to.

If there was one thing Draco knew it was that his father loved, and feared, his mother.

"Your mother sent all the animals and their handlers to the estate in France" Pierre, the coachman, called out as if he could feel Draco's worry and disappointment. Even though he felt relief from Pierre's statement, he could not shake the feeling that everything still felt wrong. But despite his feelings, the Carriage continued on down the cobblestone road.

The road to the Manor was a long one, the Malfoy lands spanning on for several hundred acres in either direction before you could reach the Main house. A few smaller mansions where located around the land strategically in case of any guests that came to visit for an extended period of time and there was an entire village composed of house elves, stable hands, groundskeepers, maids, butlers, foremen, cooks…servants of all kinds really, along with their families. The Malfoys provided clothes, food, and shelter…they even paid for the education of their help and their helps loved ones. Now while most purebloods merely had house elves it was a tradition passed down for generations for the Malfoys to have human help as well.

But as they passed by the village, and Draco peeked through the small opening the curtains made to peer out the window, it was noticed that even the village was deserted. Everyone was gone. Draco sat straighter in his seat and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He took deep breaths to calm himself and tried to ignore the fear growing inside him, the cold truth hitting him harder then he thought it would.

The Malfoy lands had been evacuated.

The land itself looked as beautiful as ever, the flowers bloomed perfectly and the buildings stood proud and impressive in the twilight of the day. The view was perfect, the grounds still well kept and the wind blew a gentle breeze through the trees and grass wafting the summer smells into the carriage as if trying to lift Draco's spirits. But it was quiet, far too quiet. Draco could not recall a time when silence had taken hold of the lands, nor a time when not a sound danced on the breeze. There was no sounds to be found save for his gentle breathing and the soft, fearful whinnies of the horses pulling the carriage.

The land seemed so…hollow.

Draco Jumped as the carriage jolted, the horses kicking up a fuss and refusing to go any farther. Their cries would have startled the birds from the trees, had their been any left, and the sound carried like an echo in an empty chasm.

"Jacques!" Draco thumped his hands on the wood of the carriage to get the nervous servirs attention. "Pierre! Merlin's beard, back them up. I'll walk from here." Draco felt the Carriage back up until the horses settled down before he grabbed his things and opened the door.

"Master Draco! Please, your Father-"

"Would not appreciate me being late for dinner, no matter the excuse." He turned to look at the man who had first taught him about how to navigate through forests and bogs, the man who taught him about the stars and how to climb trees, secretly of course for his parents would have had kittens if they had known. He noticed how scared Jacques was and he took the abandonment of the lands into account. There was most likely a skeletal staff on board, of house elves and people alike and Draco knew that all still on the lands were in danger.

"Jacques, Pierre, please listen to me." Draco said quietly and watched as Jacques and Pierre both froze in place from where they had been climbing off the carriage to help him with is bags. "Pierre I need you to take all you can and evacuate like the rest." He handed the young man of twenty a bag of gold. "That should help you. Have all the human staff leave to the estate in France and you may use what you need to set up residence. I'll owl you the documents you'll need to register everyone and I'll send Heckcoush over with a key to some funds, He'll be in charge of them until my family or I contact you." Heckcoush was a very young goblin, just starting out, but Heckcoush's father had sung his praises the last time Draco had been to Gringotts and Draco figured that it would help the young one to have such an important job at the beginning of his career. A kick start, if you will. It'd be perfect for the goblin and it would help Draco raise himself into high esteem with the goblin clans; something that would most likely be handy in the future.

He turned away from the frozen man and reached into his shirt to pull out a pendant that had been hidden in his robes. "Jacques, I need you to contact all the house elves and have only the volunteers stay. If they all volunteer then make the senior elves, of the main house only, each choose a staff of only six." There where over a hundred senior elves in total all across the Malfoy lands but there where only thirteen in charge of the main house. With each one having a staff of six that would mean that there would be only 91 elves in total out of the hundreds that were of working age.

The man tried to argue with him but Draco would have none of it. "I mean it Jacques. I need the innocents that made up this land out before it is too late to do so. Take this pendant and show it to the elves so they know you come on my authority then hand it to Wiz, he's the weird looking elf with the contraption on his head." He placed the pendant into Jacques callused hands and patted the old man on the shoulder. "I need you to take care of yourself Jacques. I know my father will have the lands sealed by tomorrow so I need you two to act quickly. Now go, I'll deal with my parents and any objections they may make."

Both men stared after him with such emotion on their faces that Draco couldn't bear to look back at them. Instead he brought out his wand and spelled his luggage to float after him as he walked away like he was merely on a pleasant stroll, silently thanking his luck that he could use magic while on his family lands. It was still over a few kilometers until the main house and Draco didn't have time to waste but he would not run and he wouldn't rush. He didn't wish to see how the land would feel after dark, and had little desire to still be outside when the sun fell but he still had to keep appearances for you never know who could be watching.

And as Draco walked onwards he could swear that he felt such eyes on him, despite the emptiness that now plagued his land.

Someone was watching.

ooo

Several kilometers away, deep within the bowels of Malfoy Manor, a skeletal figure sat silently in front of a roaring fireplace. A lone spider like hand drummed its fingers repetitively on the arm of the dark green lounge chair and crimson red eyes glowed eerily in the flickering light as he watched a shaking house elf stock the fire.

The tiny creature was young, for a house elf, most likely new to the Manor itself and slitted eyes regarded the slave as it went about preparing the room for his stay. It wore a small sailor cut uniform of black, silver and green, with a pleated skirt and a bonnet on its head indicating towards its gender. There was a small symbol stitched to the uniform bow and her tiny shoes made not a sound as she trembled before him. The figure watching her could sense her fear and a lipless mouth sneered cruelly down at her as she knelt facing the hearth and tossed the last few pieces of wood into the fire.

Then, with a small chuckle, a single white hand reached into the folds of a black robe and drew out a long polished stick of wood. Slit like nostrils flared as crimson eyes narrowed in on the working elf and with a flick of his wand the hairless figure alighted the room with high-pitched screams of pain and terror.

Lord Voldemort watched with malicious glee as the house elf writhed in the fire, the uniform burning away and the skin peeling off the thin creature as it screamed and tried to escape the flames, the smell of burning flesh and the sight of wide terrified eyes melting away into a blackening skull caused the dark lord to nearly purr where he sat.

He had returned and it felt good to be back in power once more. Soon the wizarding world would regret the day they thought themselves saved and he would relish that moment and bath himself in their boy savior's blood. Then they would see, then they would beg and plead and die.

But before he punished the miscreants that had openly defied him he had to punish those who abandoned him first. To think his own followers would believe him felled by a mere_ child_. HIM? The great Lord Voldemort, why the thought in itself was laughable. He was much displeased with those of his inner circle and he had the next year to think up suitable punishments for them while his new body gathered its strength. Lucius was doing well in appeasing the anger he felt towards the blond by allowing him sanctuary within the rich folds of his home but he was still a long way off from being forgiven.

No, Lucius would have to be punished creatively and the only things the blond cared about were riches, standings and his bloodline. Voldemort relaxed in his chair, the fading cries of the dying elf like background music to the dark lord as he pondered over what to do. He was rather attached to the Malfoy Money and Lucius's political standings where of great use to him, so that left his bloodline. But how could he use that? Ah, right, The Malfoy had a brat right? A boy if he wasn't mistaken, he wouldn't be hard to spot he was sure, and these purebloods were rather fond of their offspring that it wouldn't be hard to use the next generation to control their predecessors.

It was at this moment; a few seconds after the screams had died, and the remnants of the elf had stopped twitching, that the Dark Lord felt a tug on his mind. Nagini was calling to him. "What is it my sweet?" He hissed and closed his own eyes as he mentally prepared himself to peer through hers.

The sensations he felt while possessing her were almost indescribable. He could feel every movement of her body, every scale. The very essence of her thoughts and perceptions washed through him and the world itself shifted into a different perspective. It was euphoric.

He was curious as to why she would call to him and he let his body relax as the images she was seeing came flooding into his mind. Her thoughts melded with his own, what she smelled so did he and what she saw he was able to witness with his own eyes.

The sky was darkening with the oncoming night, the sun slowly disappearing over the edge of the horizon, and there was not a sound save for soft footfalls on cobblestone several meters away.

Nagini's head lifted a little above the grass her eyes flashing in the waning light as the Dark Lord looked out through her at the creature that had caught his sweet's attention. Voldemort knew, the moment his eyes fell upon the figure, that this was Lucius's son. The expensive fabric of his robes, the Slytherin crest, the blond hair and haughty stance…yes this was definitely Lucius's child. He couldn't see the others face, for the boy was walking away from him, but he could tell that the boy seemed a little small for his age.

Nagini flicked her tongue out and Voldemort caught a delicious scent of fresh morning dew and mint leaves, an intoxicating mixture that drew them closer to the boy. Nagini was silent as she slithered nearer to the strolling figure, the shadows of the evening hiding her large form from view and masking her presence perfectly. So it came as a surprise, to both the Dark Lord and his pet, when the blond boy whipped around, wand pointed right between their eyes.

ooo

Draco knew he was being followed, he could feel the eyes on him and he could sense a presence close by. His eyes flicked around rapidly, his thoughts whirling around in his head like a violent storm. He could see no one and he heard nothing, the silence unnerving him more then the lengthening shadows and fading light.

He kept his posture lax, his pace even and he gave no outwards indication to his internal nervousness. He felt twitchy, his day not having been the best and it would be just his luck to get eaten or something before he even reached home. Suddenly, on his left he felt it, the presence of something nearby and the eyes where on him again.

Like the snake his uniform crest displayed he reacted. In but a single second he had twisted and drew his wand, the bags which had been floating in front of him forming a barrier on his left in between him and the presence he had felt and pointed his wand at.

Voldemort felt himself paralyzed by the intensity of those stormy orbs and he could feel the magic swirling about the boy. It was obvious the child had yet to go through puberty, or his inheritance, and yet Voldemort could feel the impressive depth the boy's power ran. Once he passed puberty the boy would be a powerful wizard indeed.

But what had caught Nagini's attention was not the boy's magical prowess but rather his instincts. She often found the fools her precious Tom associated with severely lacking in that department and they never noticed her until she was directly underfoot. It was most amusing to hear their sounds of startlement and smell their fear but it became a nascence when in large crowds. After the third time your tail is stepped on any woman would get a little hissy.

But this hatchling had noticed her even when she had been hunting him from the shadows, he had reacted swiftly and had she been about to strike him she was sure he would have made her his prey instead. Her approval of the two-legger hatchling did not go unnoticed by her Tom and he took this into consideration as he regarded the youth before him.

Draco, for his part, felt confused yet slightly elated with the find of the giant snake. He did not know that this was the familiar to the Dark Lord everyone feared but instead figured the grounds keepers had missed but one animal. He lowered his wand but didn't put it away. He wasn't foolish enough to believe this creature was tame, nor was he about to be near it unarmed. I mean come on, it was a giant freaking snake for crying out loud and Draco was sure he looked like a walking buffet.

It was good to be near another living creature though so Draco merely committed her form to memory and started his trek anew, bags floating efficiently before him, and snake slithering at his heels.

With a tight grip on his wand and ready for any sudden attacks Draco aloud himself a few moments of pure rapture to over take him. By the markings on her and the way she 'felt' to him Draco had already surmised that the snake was female, and the way she moved was so fluid that Draco envisioned a great beauty, almost like a queen, in his mind.

She was roughly twelve feet long and as thick as a grown man's thigh. Her scales where a mixture of greens, blacks, and browns and Draco thought she might resemble a muggle Python. But she was surely magical, he could easily tell that but he'd have to do some research to determine her species not having a reason to really look up snakes before. It would be a fun project to keep himself occupied with and if he was lucky he'd see her again, maybe even long enough to jot down a quick sketch of her.

Nagini of course loved the attention she knew she was receiving despite Voldemorts misgivings. He at least noticed the wand still in the boys grasp and promised sever retribution if the other made any move to harm his pet. He fled back to his own body when Nagini started getting snippy with him over his 'unfounded fears' as she called them and couldn't he see that the hatchling was properly enamored with her? Honestly…

Yes, when she got like that it was best to leave her to it. Otherwise he'd fall too much into her thoughts and end up wondering where his scales had gone like last time. So with plans forming in his head Voldemort gleefully reined himself back into his body and chuckled to himself before summoning another house elf to fetch Lucius for him.

He wished to meet this child as soon as he could, if he was as intelligent as he was magically powerful then his plans for the future where looking up. He may even forgive Lucius of his previous grievances so long as his son shone favorably.

Flicking his wand, Voldemort tossed a small log into the face of the charred elf corpse and felt a small sense of glee when it collapsed inwards with a sickening squick sound.

Yes, things where looking good indeed.

ooo

In an entirely different part of the mansion a gathering of house elves mourned for the loss of one of their own, the house and lands crying with them and singing mournfully with the death. Fear caused the elves to shake and whimper, the young one's not understanding why the house magic had changed so quickly.

The older elves knew they where most likely not going to live to see the end of summer and it was with heavy hearts that they prepared their successors for that day. So you can imagine their surprise when one of the wizard servants came forth with orders from their young master to vacate the majority of them to another house.

It is true most wizards think nothing of house elves and many don't even remember where they originated. But Draco had always been a curious child and had taken one aside one day and had asked the elf a very serious question, "Where do baby elves come from?" Now any elf would feel embarrassed to try to explain the occurrence to a four-year-old child but Draco had been most insistent and eventually was sat down by a senior elf one night to have his questions answered.

Now while two elves may fall in love and eventually do the nasty it is rare for elf children to be born. In fact the very reason why the elves where called 'house' elves was because they needed a house to sustain them, they need a house to live. Very rarely would a house see more then one elf at a time, and even Hogwarts was limited to a couple hundred.

"See, see Mini Master" The old wizened elf had said while tucking the youngster into bed "When magic buildy and buildy soon it go pop. Elf nest grows and first house elf born. " The elf had nodded, amused at the child's awe and had continued in his rather amusing way of speaking. He told Draco that that was only the first for the following days the elf ancestors just appeared after that first one inside some of the wizarding buildings all around the world. They where merely children then but with time the house they were bound to showed them what needed to be done. The happier and better cared for the house, the happier and healthier the elf. It is admitted that many wizards like to count an elf among their properties, but the reality is that the wizard doesn't 'own' the elf, the house does. The clothes thing is only a way for the family to acknowledge them.

"How's that?" asked the fair-haired child eagerly, eyes wide and held tilted to the side like a curious bird "Well Master, why richy wizards have house elves?"

"Cause we're prettier?"

The elf looked down at the child strangely but Draco didn't seem to notice and continued. "Tha' and cause we gots lots of shiny things and shiny things are fun to play with 'n' cause Da likes to buy um."

"Not true, not true." The old elf said quieting the child down as he continued "It not cause of pretty faces, pretty places or shiney shines. It's the house, the house. Power houses, magic swells!" He explained to the youth that it's the elf magic itself that feeds from the house's energy and enables itself to harbor an elf.

Draco had not fully understood then but came to later appreciate what that meant in regards to the Malfoy lands and ancestral magic when he later took note of the abundance of house elves the lands held and how easily a house elf couple could conceive while living here. He realized why his father was so proud of having so many, why they're so valued when comparing one's social standing and lineage.

A wizard can't buy a house-elf, neither can he sell one, all the wizarding houses had a certain amount of magic within them, if the family that lives in the house is strong and stays in the same place for some generations then the magic becomes stronger, until it calls a house-elf. If the family frees it, the house loses a part of its magic and it can be years before it gains enough power again to have another house-elf. Taking this into regard the Malfoy lands had stood for far longer then even the ancient castle of Hogwarts, the lands where more powerful then even the Senior Malfoy knew and Draco could only just begin to comprehend.

So you can understand why the elves where not sure how to proceed with the evacuation order, for they would need a place able to sustain them and their families, and whispered concerns broke out among them. The conundrum was solved by the eldest elf that stood shakily and with a strong yet raspy voice ordered them to divide themselves amongst the Malfoy properties all over the world. There where more then enough houses magically strong enough to sustain them all due to the lands they where built on and who were they to deny a direct order, especially on that kept them safe?

So without a single elf hesitating they scattered, belongings were packed, children gathered and food was prepared and bagged for the journey all within moments. Jacques had at least suspected some protest, or even indecision, but the elves had themselves organized before he could even begin to think of his own. There was a line of thirteen older elves off to the side who where hugged and patted on the shoulder by each elf that passed them, and eventually six others line up behind each elf, each standing as proud as ever and not showing a bit of fear.

This was their home, and they would willingly die for it.

Jacques felt his heart constrict. They where so small, despite the fact that most where older then him he couldn't help but feel like he was going to leave children behind. Sighing the old servir turned to leave but an odd elf caught his attention and he suddenly remembered the other part of his task.

He gripped the chain about his neck tightly and chased after the elf, handing him the pendant once he confirmed the elf's name. His job done, he bent down and helped a mother elf with her three children scooping them up into his arms so that she may carry their belongings better. No one saw the weird elf catch the eye of several others before they all nodded and disappeared silently like the morning mists.

ooo

While Jacques took care of the very efficient elves Pierre was having a bit more trouble with the human staff, Narcissa's hand maidens to be more specific, and he didn't know what to do to make them more faster. I mean why would anyone need twelve pairs of shoes anyway? And why where they bringing that rug? What could they possibly use that vase for? SO engrossed in getting these last few girls moving he didn't notice the disgustingly pudgy man until he was practically right up in his face and gripping his arm with a strangely gloved hand. "Didn't you hear me boy! I want a glass of brandy! For some reason I can't find the maids in this place and I can't seem to summon any house elves. Where the bloody hell is everybody?"

Pierre froze and tugged his arm free. "My apologies sir but unfortunately we have been ordered to evacuate the premises." Pierre felt his polite smile strain on his face. He didn't like this revolting man and he knew that all this darkness started when this sad excuse for a wizard came in bringing the dark one with him.

"What? By who?"

The man once known as Peter Pettigrew did his best to look as imposing and intimidating as he could while interrogating the servant boy but all he managed was a strange kind of constipated look that twisted his features something fierce. The boy's eyes flicked over to the girls he had been ordering about and nodded when the last one put on their outer cloaks. "By young master Malfoy" The boy said honestly bending down and picking up a small trunk in each of his hands and Peter realized the reason no one was about.

"But the Lord said-" he began in a squeaky kind of voice becoming panicked. What was Lucius thinking? The Dark Lord had said to keep the staff working! This was the exact opposite of that! He was going to demand the boy call the servants back when he realized the other had already left, the door having already shut behind him and the sound of a carriage moving over dirt was heard outside. Peter knew he was too late to stop them and cursed his luck. The Dark Lord was not going to like this and hopefully he could avoid punishment, this was Lucius's fault after all.

Nodding the man now known solely as Wormtail turned and made his way down to the lower levels of the house, intent on telling his Lord what the Malfoy had done and to firmly announce his ignorance to the whole deal.

ooo

Narcissa was not happy.

Not only had their summer trip to Spain been canceled but Lucius had the _gall_ to invite that disgusting monster into their home without consulting her about it. She had been most displeased to wake up on day to find several of her favorite house elves beaten, her new rug stained with blood, a rat running about her home and molesting her maids and that damned snake had swallowed her favorite fur-lined purse.

To think all this could have been tolerated, but the death of her gardens could not.

She was sure she had made herself **very** clear that her green houses where not to be touched and her gardens where to be left vacant but the Dark Lord didn't see any reason to follow her warnings. Her gardens where torn asunder by his 'spell practice' and the glass of her green houses had somehow gotten cracked causing all that negative energy the Dark Lord was producing to leak in and kill her precious babies!

She hadn't even been able to consol herself with her animals for they where all too restless and spooked for anything. A few days of this had Narcissa worrying about their health but it was only after seeing that damned snake with an entire peacock tail sticking out of it's mouth and having her suck it up like spaghetti that she finally caved and sent her collection away to the manor in France.

She knew her home was being invaded by this menace and feared for her family and servants. So it was with the peacock incident in mind that she protected who she could. She sent many of them away to different Malfoy locations but was unable to find the authority to send the last bit off and feared seeing someone's leg sticking out of the snake's mouth instead of feathers. And her poor house elves, she had been unable to send _any_ of them away, Lucius making it clear that they where to stay put. He didn't care about their health or wellbeing and Narcissa remembered the quirky elf they used to have and how furious Lucius had been when it had been freed.

As long as the elf died while still in service to the house then their Magic is absorbed back into it and recycle for the next generation. Each day she found out about the death of one of them and even though she was only a Malfoy by marriage, she had birthed the Malfoy heir and so she believed she could hear the house crying at night. It was such a sad sound and made her unable to get any sleep at all.

But today there was something different in the air.

She didn't realize what had been nagging at the back of her mind all day until she saw a figure crest over the hill, bags aloft in front of him, when she had peered out through the third floor window. Then something clicked and she rushed, as much as a proper woman could, down the stairs and to the front entryway. From there she threw open the double doors and waited anxiously to welcome her baby boy home.

She had no idea where Lucius was, the man spending more and more time in the depths of the house and secluded in his office to pay her any mind. Like his wife he most likely forgot his son was due home today.

But no matter, her baby was home. She would make sure they had the entire summer together, something they haven't done in a long time, and to hell with Lucius and his stupid master.

Narcissa felt herself smile for the first time in weeks and let her mind plan picnics, long talks, reading in the library and practicing the arts with her dear boy. He at least knew how to act properly and would most likely share her displeasure with Lucius's actions, maybe she could even convince him to help her make Lucius's life a little more difficult. She had never been good at pranking but she had received several letters from Severus telling her of his suspicions on her son actions while at school, most of which the potions master had gladly pinned on the Weasley twins by catching them near the crime scenes.

Having no official letters from the school allowed her to suspect that her son was indeed very good at what he did. Good enough not to get caught, anyway. It would be a good bonding activity and it may even give Lucius enough of a kick that he paid attention to his family and less attention to the slime residing in the deeper rooms.

Pushing her resentment to the back of her mind she let herself smile lovingly at her child. She was proud of his appearance and manner for he didn't rush despite the urge to run to her, as she knew he would most likely be feeling the very moment he had seen her. As a child he used to forget his manners and had often bounded towards her like an excited puppy when he had been away for a while and had more often then not been scolded and punished by Lucius for such. Despite this he still dropped this act when he was two feet from the front steps and she didn't scold him when he bounded up those steps to accept her hands on his shoulders and a loving kiss to his cheek.

"My little Dragon, I am warmed by your heart" She said to him, as she always did.

"And I shall forever kindle yours." He finished with a small smile, warmth in his gaze. Narcissa remembered the first time he had added that onto the phrase she had murmured to him since her belly had first began to swell. He had been two and had the cutest lisp when he had spoken, something that had infuriated Lucius but had made her nearly squeal…he had said he wanted her to know of his love as he did of hers. And you know what?

Since that moment she has.

"I have missed you Mother"

"and I you my Dragon…"

ooo

Lucius Malfoy felt like someone just placed their cold hands on the heated flesh at the back of his neck.

Normally he would have taken this as a warning on things to come but since the moment, on the 24th of June, when he had answered a summons he thought he'd never feel again, he had gotten such feelings on a regular basis. The fear of looking at his resurrected master making his body rigid with cold sweat, the displeasure of the Manor and magic of the lands causing a cold draft in every room despite the roaring fires and heating charms. The cold shoulder his wife was giving him causing him to cringe and sleep alone in one of the many other rooms of the manor.

All of these made him shrug off the feeling of foreboding. Had he paid it more attention he may have recognized what was soon going to be a partnership between his wife and son. But as such his son was the farthest thing from his thoughts. His wife however…

Merlin's beard, he already said he was sorry about their suddenly cancelled plans to Spain! And it wasn't his fault the Lords familiar had eaten her purse! He told her to stop lugging the overly expensive bag all over the place but nooo, she had to carry it around like an accessory and incidentally left it within perfect reach of the serpent.

Looking around and making sure he was alone, Lucius let out a long and desolate sigh of self-pity the very kind he would have scolded and disciplined Draco for had he caught the other doing the same. Why was life always so hard on him? Why did the Dark Lord have to come back _now?_ Why couldn't he have waited until _after_ Lucius had his annual honeymoon trip to Spain with Narcy? Now she had banished him to a different bed, like a Weasley to a couch! He sneered at the thought of having anything in common with a Weasley and growled lowly to himself. Well he'd be damned by Morgana's hand, if _he_ was going to be the one to apologize, especially since it was for something beyond his control. She'd thaw out eventually anyway right now he had more important things on his mind then to worry about his wife's unreasonable behavior.

Like keeping the dark Lord happy enough to not send Lucius to an early grave.

He was about to sigh desolately once more when an elf popped into his room trembling, eyes wide and wearing a horribly stained pillowcase. Lucius straightened and glared at the elf disdainfully. With his teeth bared in an almost animalistic way in his displeasure and his skin itching at the thought of being near a creature of such poor hygiene, never mind it was he who made them that way, he sneered at the elf.

"What?" he questioned the shaking figure impatiently as he reached for his cane, a favorite tool for beating the creatures that scuttled around his home. This was ideal for he would not have to actually touch the disgusting filth. The elf's eyes widened at the action and visibly flinched away from the tall wizard. "Mory is being sorry Master Mallyfoy! The D-"

The crack sound of the dark cane hitting flesh was heard and a cry followed soon after.

"Don't massacre my name in such away you filthy creature!" another hit followed and the elf raised its arms to protect its large head pulling on its own ears in self-induced punishment at displeasing the head of the house hold, clenching his eyes tightly shut "Morry is being bad, Bad Elf! But Scary Shadow man be wanting yous quicky quick! Morry will iron his own hands sir, he will! He-"

Lucius rolled his eyes at the creatures blubbering and was about to hit it one more time when the words the elf had said registered in his distracted brain.

The dark Lord was calling for him.

Morry whimpered and stilled as the door to the study slammed shut, the cane so many elves have found unforgiving upon their tender flesh and bony appendages clacking against the ground as the Master of the house hold speedily made his way down the hall, the quivering Morry all but forgotten in his haste. The elf made a small sound before popping away to join his evacuating family.

But not before visiting laundry to iron his own hands first.

ooo

Draco bid goodbye to his mother and both blonds left in opposite directions to their separate wings of the manor to get ready for dinner, and in Draco's case, unpack and settle back in. Despite being tired from the long tense walk across the manor grounds Draco could not find it in himself to relax. It went against his instincts to let his guard, and mask, fall, as he would have usually allowed after passing through the large entrance doors of his home.

It didn't feel like his home though.

The feeling of this building was alien, unnaturally so for him having grown up in the embrace of it's walls. The familiarity he had always taken for granted was gone and replaced by foreign stone. It could be the absence of his animals, it could be the evacuation of the lands but Draco knew it was the lack of that familiar warmth he usually would have received by now. The manor was not happy. It was cold, unwelcoming and angry.

Draco stopped walking and placed a hand on the wall his eyes shining with regret and tinged with fear. "I know." He whispered to the cold stone under his hands, "I know. I'm sorry" and he was. He could feel the sorrow radiating from the walls and suddenly felt the first stirrings of anger. The anger began to replace his fear; it gave him strength and made his back straighten, his head rise. This was his home. HIS. He would not be frightened out of his own home.

He would not run away.

Just as this thought crossed his mind he noticed a grotesque man, balding and fat, scurry down his hallway. He glared at the figure. The man's skin was sagging on his body; hair protruding grossly from several places while the surrounding area itself would be hairless. He wore clothing too good for him and some strange glove on his hand that made Draco's inner fashion correspondence cringe with the tackiness of it.

The man was huffing as he raced down the hall, no sense of decorum at all and the noise he was making could have been a herd of elephants in the silence resounding about the manor.

He was also muttering to himself, some of the first signs of lapsing sanity as his father would say. But as he was about to continue to his room, for no one could get passed the wards without consent from his father anyway so this man was obviously a guest, his ears caught some of the words spilling from the rat like man's mouth.

"-ake him pay. He wasn't supposed to get rid of the servants! Lucius will pay for dismissing them and master will be so pleased with me for reporting this right away oh yes Lucius will be punished severely for this he-"

The man turned the corner continuing with his mutterings not even noticing the small fourteen year old frozen in place eyes slowly widening.

Eyes wide and heart starting to pound with worry Draco shook himself from his shock and raced after the hurrying man not caring that he would surely be caned for running in the house. He didn't care anyway. He had no idea his actions would cause his father to get in trouble. He just thought that it was his fathers overbearing pride that prevented the other from getting rid of the help not that he honestly couldn't without serious repercussions!

Twisting around a corner Draco almost ran right into the rodent like man as he stopped before a door. Backpedaling quickly he managed to dive into a conveniently shadowed nook just as the man looked around and knocked on the large foreboding doors.

Calming himself Draco scanned the surrounding area and realized he had followed the other a lot deeper into the manner then he had thought. The area was darkened considerably, no windows to offer any light from moon or sun, torches casting eerie shadows about the hall their flames contained within a magical orb as to not burn the house down from within. The doors here were old and thick wood, painted a dark black or stained nearly the same color. The architecture was ancient, the manor having added in height and length and width as each generation surpassed the other.

Lucius had always told him this wing was forbidden to him and Draco shivered, thankful that he still wore his school uniform for it helped keep him hidden and warm.

"Enter"

A voice from the darkness, hissed out with malicious intent, beckoning the fat man in. That voice causing Draco's eyes to widen when he heard it and as the doors opened a decaying odor was released into the hall. It drifted to the shadowed nook causing Draco to nearly wretch and he quickly slapped his hands up to cover his mouth and nose. The fat man made a distressing sound as well and Draco took this chance to dart from his spot against the wall and away from the door.

He just barely made it to a small, easily accessed bathroom nearby before he could hold it no longer and released the meager contents of his stomach into the gleaming white porcelain.

He had followed the rat right to the Dark Lords door.

Word count: 9032


	3. 3: Bridges

**Chapter 3: Bridges**

**Title: ** Unexpected: Choices

**Author: **Miishii

**Category: **Harry Potter

**Main Pairing: **N/A

**Disclaimer: **The world and Characters of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. I tried to kidnap them all once with a devious plan involving three paper clips, four miles of yarn and an entire silo full of grapes… but what is easily executed in theory can go horribly, _horribly_ wrong in reality…Did you guys even know that padded rooms are remarkably like bouncy castles? I tell no lie; you just need to use a bit more energy to get a good enough bounce! The doctors didn't like my bouncing however and stapled my pant legs to the floor. I had almost broken my record too…phoey.

**Warning: **There are scenes of violence and course language, viewer discretion is advised. Also a few facts will and have been changed since nothing ever is the same when different choices are made. I am not all that sane so you have been warned. Oh yeah, there is abuse in this story. Lots and lots of abuse…

**A/N: **Just to let you all know I am all for the Slash, the Yaoi, a supporter of the limp wrists if you will. As such many of my stories will feature such relations and if you can't handle it then don't read! Honestly, if you ignore such warnings then you deserve to get offended. Just saying, If you still want to read then continue, Much love!

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It was a realization that had shocked him to the core.

The dark Lord, the destroyer, Voldemort, you-know-who and less known holder–of-the-name Tom Marvolo Riddle was just down the hall from where Draco Malfoy found himself shaking in pants wetting terror as he tried to get the smell that had drifted out from within that room from the delicate tissues within his nostrils.

It was a heavy scent, of burnt flesh and hair, with a coppery taint to it and an almost acidic base. It caused the hair in his nose to curl and the knowledge of what may have caused such a smell made Draco begin to shake with the very thought of it. The floor was cold and it caused his small body to quake more violently then before. He couldn't do this. He wasn't Harry Potter, he wasn't fearless, or lucky, or brave. He was selfish, a coward, he tended to get jealous over people and was quick to take offense. He was deceitful, sneaky, and arrogant and he held grudges longer then even his own _mother_!

He was scared.

He felt tears swell up in his eyes and he shakily wiped at his face, his whole body trembling something fierce as he tried to stifle his growing terror. His blond hair, as if in response to his fear, fell in disarray about his face. Then he froze, his breath catching in his throat as he heard the 'clack, clack, clack' of his fathers cane against the marble floors. He quickly scrambled to his feet as the sound passing him by and seemingly headed for **that** door. A polite knocking was heard and Lucius's voice carried itself into his bathroom.

"You summoned me my Lord?"

"No" Draco breathed, rushing towards the door of the bathroom and flinging it open just in time to see the large door closing behind his father. "No fa-"

The door shut, cutting off Draco's words before they fully passed his lips. Numbly he shut the door to the bathroom again and felt a tear escape from his eye. It was his fault. He was going to get his father killed, all because Draco let his worry for others effect his decisions. It was just like the incident with that hippogriff all over again. He couldn't do it. He wouldn't get people killed.

Stalking out of the bathroom he ran to the nearest lit fireplace and dug his hands into his pockets and removed something from their depths. The envelope Blaise had given him was clenched tightly in his fist as he raised his hand high above his head, prepared to toss it into the fire and relieve himself of such a heavy burden. His body shook. Tears leaking from his eyes and down flushed cheeks as he found himself hesitating. Why? Why did he feel like destroying it could cost him so much more then a few papers? He shook his head as if to convince his self that this was the proper course of action. He had to save these people from his selfish whims and ignorant actions. He had to burn the envelope.

"I can't do it." He whimpered trying to enforce his decision. "I can't. I'm not a hero; I'm not Harry Potter! I can't save anybody! I'm…I'm…" He let out a small sob and looked up only to find a pair of haunted eyes staring right back at him. His breathing hitched with fear of getting caught in the midst of his breakdown but he soon realized that the eyes he was looking into were his own.

The mirror was, like most in the manor, almost as tall as the ceiling and about two adult sized people wide. The boy in the mirror wasn't one he had ever seen before. Hair in disarray, clothing wrinkled and tears leaking down his face. He looked haunted, terrified…_helpless_. Draco found himself unable to look away and shook his head, hand still clutching the envelope. "I…" He stood there staring at himself and felt something he had never felt towards himself before.

Disgust.

He slowly lowered his hand the envelope still safely clutched between pale fingers. He was digested with himself. He had been thinking and praying for someone to save him, for someone to carry him off like some damsel unable to defend herself. What had he said before? "I'm not Harry Potter" he repeated to his reflection and watched as it shook its head. Then the silver eyes flashed. No, you're not. They seemed to say, you're Draco Malfoy.

"I _am_ Draco Malfoy"

His reflection straightened it's back, its head lifting and a strength he didn't know he possessed entered the once pathetic frame. The envelope found itself back into his pockets as a calm suddenly overtook him. He was Draco Malfoy. He wasn't perfect and he was afraid, but he wasn't weak. He _wasn't._ He didn't need Harry Potter to save him. He didn't need someone to protect him. Hadn't he taken Potter and the trio out on the train? Hadn't he, for once, used his own strength s to protect his friends and teach a lesson to the ignorant three? To Potter? And the Dark Lord, with all the fear he makes people feel, hadn't he, on numerous occasions, tried to kill that same boy and each time lose him again? What does that say?

Draco walked back to the bathroom and washed his face before smoothing out his robes. It says Potter has Luck. Luck Draco knew he didn't possess and he acknowledged this fact as he fixed his hair. He couldn't just dive head first into a battle like Potter could, he couldn't throw thought out of the window and fumble through things like the other boy does so very often and hope to survive. He wasn't a Griffindor. But he _was_ a Slytherin. And he did have a few things on his side, strength and qualities he, himself, was a master of. He had his intelligence and his cunning.

He would need all of whom he was, all of Draco Malfoy, to get through with the slowly forming picture held within his mind. The chessboard behind his eyelids lit up as the pieces started sliding into place, the two opposing sides facing each other and unaware of the figure staring at them in contemplation off to the side. He was going to change history.

He was going to change the course of fate.

A pale hand reached forwards, delicately grasping an ornate silver handle and opening the door to a whole new path of possibilities.

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If Draco were to choose between all his gifts and pick a single, most relevant talent that he possessed he would have to choose his ability to sneak. Sneak, it sounded like such a weak and spineless word but what would one use to replace it? He creeped? Slinked? Sidled? Tiptoed? Padded? Prowled?

Yes, that was better, prowled. He prided himself on this ability, for he often did this to garner information and know more then he should. Knowledge is power and he chose to have as much knowledge as he could gather and kept it secret until he deemed it useful. Pansy, as loved as she was, could never grasp the concept of keeping knowledge close. She was a gossip, a queen in her own right and she loved to spread anarchy when it came to her in the silken lies of a rumor. She had the ability to differentiate between a lie and the truth but she enjoyed bending the hell out of the lie. Making it all the worse and then releasing her creation into the general populace.

But Draco knew the power that could be found within the spoken word. He had spent many nights _prowling_ the school, finding those he could spy upon. He had been whiteness to all the sins of man; he had seen people at their best and their worst. He had seen truthful people lie and strong people break. He knew things that could shock you.

But that is not what we must focus on. No for while the things he knew would be useful one day they where useless for the task he was going to grasp with both hands. He was going to confront the Dark Lord. He used all his skills as he crept silently towards that thrice-damned door and then he waited. Yes, waited. Why you may wonder? Well besides his ability to Prowl Draco was still a Malfoy and if there was one thing they where known for the Malfoy's always entered with _purpose._

Timing, for such, was everything.

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Voldemort was not happy, that much was plain to see and that spineless, worthless slab of flesh that was Wormtail was making it all the worse. Lucius wished he was crass enough to swear even in his thoughts but it took all his skills as a Malfoy to hide the blatant urge to gag at the smell that was most likely going to ruin his robes. He'll never get the stench out if he stayed in the room much longer, and he felt the bile at the back of his throat coil there as if waiting for the inevitable.

He was a Malfoy however and Malfoy's did not gag or puke. Or at least not in public, unknown to him however his nose scrunched up slightly and his sneer was firmly in place as he gazed at the sniveling lump before him. The man was waving his arms about in the most undignified manner and was gesturing wildly towards Lucius as if the subject of conversation was his fault.

The Dark Lord turned those blood colored eyes towards him and he couldn't help but lament at the loss of the man he had once been. What had happened the charismatic and beautiful man that had seduced the purebloods into a brotherhood? What had happened to the goal of uniting the wizarding world and protecting the old traditions? What had happened to their future? Was this sick and twisted creature the true face of his Lord? Was this disgusting figure the true form of the person he had pledged him and his own to? Or was he always like this and Lucius was just now beginning to see…

"What do you have to say about these allegations Lucius?"

He just barely resisted snarling at the grinning Wormtail.

"Unfounded My Lord, I gave no such orders"

The monster before him sneered with a lipless mouth and smiled cruelly at his two followers and twirled his wand in between skeletal fingers.

"Then who could have given the order I wonder?" the creature asked and Lucius couldn't help but tense at that. There had been something hidden within those words and he couldn't figure out what it was. There was something nagging at him, at the back of his mind and it was as if it had been there all day and only choosing now to make itself known.

"I did"

A voice spoke up from behind him and Lucius froze in surprise, face turning to stone to hide his urge to blanch. He calmly turned to look into grey eyes much like his own.

"Hello Father"

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This was…delicious.

The boy stood before him now, shockingly untouched by the darkness and stench that was claiming and tainting the room. He seemed so innocent, so pure, his hair was lying softly against his head and he stood calmly before his father in his school robes, slytherin crest standing proudly upon his breast.

He greeted his father with a warm smile, as if he hadn't just appeared into existence in front of the door as if he had apparated. But apparation was far too rough a thought for the delicate child before him. No, he looked like he had descended from a higher plane of existence; softly and silently he graced them.

How Voldemort hated him for it.

He hadn't noticed the boy until the other spoke up and but he had noticed Wormtail jump like he had just been hit by a stinging hex and Lucius…well he was Lucius. The face didn't change but his stance had tensed further and he had lacked his usual grace when he turned to face his own child. It was the older Malfoys discomfort alone that prevented him from turning his wand on the boy before him. He wanted to taint that creature, hurt him, break him and then mark him as his own; forever damning, forever owning.

But he could wait for that pleasure. He could wait and then draw it out. It would represent something he had once been cursed with but now released from. He would make the little one's pain last.

"And who might you be little one?" He asked tauntingly, his eyes gleaming with promise.

Oh yes, he could wait.

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As Draco walked towards that foreboding door, he couldn't help but feel thankful for his earlier breakdown, however damning it had been, for now he felt a calm settle upon him making him feel like smooth stone. He had no more tears to shed, no more quakes to his soul and while he still felt the fear he had earlier coil tightly in his belly he kept it hidden in a cold metal box and locked deep within him, unable to escape to effect the peaceful state to which he found himself. He now had a purpose, a mission, a path, a plan. The pieces where set, the die was about to be cast…Draco felt a strange thrum of excitement spark within his blood as he opened the door.

Let the games begin.

"What do you have to say about these allegations Lucius?"

The voice was higher then he had expected, there was a constant hiss to the words as well that made him remember a time when he had been a small child and had a lisp. He recalled his voice instructor enunciating the 'S' es in words in an overly exaggerated manner and the thing before him sounded the same as that irritating old man of his past.

"Unfounded My Lord, I gave no such orders"

Draco felt his stomach drop at the sound of his fathers voice and was reminded of what was at stake should he fail in this game he had begun. People always said the first step was the hardest in any journey and he guessed this was going to be the hard part because, like any child, Draco feared his parent's reactions. Now he had to do something completely against his very nature.

He had to be brave.

The monster before him sneered with a lipless mouth and smiled cruelly at his two followers and twirled his wand in between skeletal fingers.

"Then who could have given the order I wonder?" the creature asked and Draco took this as his cue. The time for courage was now.

"I did"

He saw the familiar strong back of his father stiffen and the other slowly turned as if the stone of his mask had stiffened his joints and ligaments as well. While the movement was smooth it lacked the grace they as Malloy's prided themselves upon. Draco pushed his worry for his father to the back of his mind as he smiled up at the other warmly, acknowledging the other as he had been taught to so very long ago.

"Hello Father"

His fathers face seemingly showed no emotion but Draco had faced such a mask all his life and could easily see the others fear as his fathers eyes darkened with it. He allowed the older Malfoy to see the confidence in him and stepped forwards to grasp his father's cold hand within his own warm ones. He could see his father smile tentatively back before the mask settled over his features again and the hissing voice broke over them tauntingly.

"And who might you be little one?"

Draco's eyes shifted from his father to the thing that had once been a man of promise for purebloods. Now he was a skeletal shell of hatred and death, an abomination but a powerful one. Those crimson eyes held his own as Draco felt his father place a hand on his shoulder, silently supporting him even if he did so unconsciously. Draco could see a dark promise flash in the eyes that held his and he kept hold of that gaze with all the pride and confidence of his station.

"I am heir of the house Malfoy, Draconis Lucius Kader Cyril Ohanzee Gagan Gwydion" He bowed his head respectively but did not remove his gaze from the dark lords. As tradition demanded of him he waited for the other to introduce himself in the fashion of pureblood old. He was surprised, however, when the other didn't seem to recognize the greeting of lords and instead broke the respectful gaze to allow his eyes to roam over him in a manner that made him feel like common cattle. His own eyes narrowed and he looked sharply at his father, unseen by the dark lord and his pet rat of a man who was still quivering in the corner of the room.

His own father looked away in what Draco could only hope was shame. Draco had been raised to believe that dark lord was a pureblood wizard of immense potential who rose to his rightful place as the heir of Slytherin and one of the Four Lords of power. But he had found out in second year the true blood status of the man once called Tom Marvolo Riddle but held the hope that the dark Lord had taken the right of passage and had been purged. When he had looked into it this had not been the case. So why had his father followed the man so blindly? Why had anyone?

He had found out, in the summer between his third and fourth year that the man ruled by fear. _Fear_, such a false control and easily directed else where the moment you faltered for even a second.

But he could not help falling into the very fear that plague everyone else despite his contempt for it, could not help feeling the imagined noose tightening around his neck as each day passed. What had truly scared him was he knew he could never be one of the faithful, knew he wasn't cut out to be a Death Eater and kill without guilt. He'd have killed himself over the pain he would have been forced to cause, would have easily succumbed to the depression and the weight of it and would have lost sight of himself as his soul was torn asunder by it. What was worse is that he knew his family would have fallen with him.

But he had a new plan in mind.

"He is in your image Lucius" The dark Lord hissed when he was done with his inspection. He had yet to touch him but Draco still felt like he needed a shower. Lucius bowed low his eyes lowered in submission and murmured his thanks as the skeletal hands of the Dark Lord reached forwards and tilted Draco's face towards the ceiling as he stepped uncomfortably close. Draco for his credit took this all in stride and gazed unwaveringly at the beast before him, seemingly unconcerned and every inch the pureblooded heir he was.

Inside however he was once again in the bathroom quivering and screaming. He could hear and feel the rapid beating of his own heart and was sure such a loud sound was audible to all in the cursed room but no one else gave signs that they had noticed at all. And for that he was grateful.

Red eyes narrowed and an unnerving smile graced the snake-like face. "So young Malfoy, you gave the orders?" Draco could feel the weight of those words and decided that his next had to be chosen carefully.

"I had been informed before my arrival that you had requested your visit be of the utmost discretion. The more to remain here, the more tongues to silence and I had planned for a relaxing summer."

Draco had always s been good at manipulation, but no matter how proud of the skill he was it still sickened him when he allowed himself to look away from the other man's eyes demurely and shyly mutter his apologies for his actions.

"It was not my intention to offend you Lord, merely my dislike for idle gossip and loose tongues. I did keep a skeletal staff of house elves on board however and they are more then enough of what is required for an easy visit." His eyes shifted to the fireplace at the remains of what had once been a small house elf and he felt the hands that still held his face tighten causing him to meet the others gaze once more. "I will have to ask you to refrain from killing the remaining staff however, because I have to warn you that my mother is pants at cooking."

Shock, it was what froze the air around them as the two Death Eaters in the room both stared at the small boy in their lords grasp. One with fear for his child and the other with anticipation for what he was sure to come. But what was most shocking is what happened next.

The Dark Lord laughed.

The hands on his face didn't release him but rather slide down the smooth skin of his jaw, along his neck and rested upon his shoulders as he stood before the laughing dark lord. He noticed the fat man in the corner flinch alarmingly and he could feel his father's eyes on him, their weight testing his resolve in this game. But he was stubborn and refused to waver, the die had been cast into Voldemorts hands.

Now all he could do was wait.

It was slightly disconcerting that the Dark Lord found the situation humorous and it was even more so being so close to such a powerful man who was so very obviously bonkers. Draco could _feel _the man's power radiate from the emaciated body and it clung alarmingly atop his clothes as if trying to draw the magic from Draco's skin and consume it. Draco had to repress a shiver at the thought before he had an even more terrifying one; what if that is what the dark marks did?

Draco had always thought that marking one's followers so obviously was a bungle of epic proportions. While the ability to summon Death Eaters to where ever their lord was, _without_ needing them to _know_ the exact location, was a clever idea in itself but the intelligence of such an action was ruined by the thought that any apposing force could easily hunt down those under Voldemort by simply looking for the dark mark upon their arm. It was also easily detectable by wards and charms, meaning anyone could discover where your loyalties lay by setting a trap or even a charmed line like the one Dumbledore had set around that blasted cup just several months ago. Draco was surprised no one has thought of doing so as of yet and just chalked it up to the idiocy of adulthood.

So maybe there was something more to the marks then just all that? Voldemort hadn't always been insane otherwise Draco's grandfather and then his own father never would have originally followed him. So maybe the marks where for something else, like… magical transfer? What if Voldemort could draw energy from his followers? What if the dark marks where what made him so powerful in the first place?

Draco suddenly feared being marked more then he ever had before.

The Dark Lord started to wind down a bit and smiled. Or rather Draco assumed he smiled, it was more of a bearing of teeth and it made the fat man in the corner shudder violently. The hands on Draco's shoulders lifted off him and one descended a top his head and _petted_ his hair. His _**hair!**_ Draco's face scrunched up like a petulant child and another chuckle escaped the Dark Lord.

"Your attitude, child, is refreshing" Red eyes focused on the fat man in the corner who's eyes widened before he fell to his knees, bowing and scraping before the skeletal man. "What do you have to say for yourself Wormtail? You falsely accused and thus insulted the Lord of this house." His eyes flicked over to Lucius his hands still atop the others child and then back to the quivering mass in front of him. Wormtail began blabbering apologies and Draco made a disgusted sound. One final pet to his hair and the hand left him, to which the Draco immediately reached up and started to fix his hair, an annoyed look settling over his features.

Voldemort chuckled one more time before waving his hand towards the two Malfoys and once more turning towards the quivering Wormtail. Draco barely had time to recognize the dismissal before his father forcefully dragged him to the door. As they exited into the hall Draco couldn't make out what was said but a horrible scream rose from the fat man before the thick heavy door cut it off at it's crescendo.

Draco was pulled further down the hall before roughly turned around to stare into furious grey eyes.

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There had been other times, like this one, in which Draco had scared his father into anger. His childhood littered with flashing grey eyes and a disapproving glares which hurt more then any beating could. Such instances where always fresh in his mind and it allowed Draco to understand his Father all the more. So when he had been spun about and faced with such a reaction he wasn't surprised, instead he calmly waited for the scolding to begin.

But none was forthcoming and instead father and son stared at each other in tense silence. Never before had his father looked at him like this and it made Draco self-conscious, a nervousness settling upon him which froze any noise from escaping his throat. Draco was born with a silver tongue but faced with the expectations of his father it felt like lead in his mouth.

Draco could feel the tremors that shook his fathers frame as the hands on him tightened painfully, bruising a quickly approaching possibility and the fear of what words would be summoned clung to Draco like the stench of the room they just left. Any moment now his previous decisions and plans would be put under the test of his fathers fear and disapproval. Such a fragile seed within his mind and Draco feared the winter his father's words would bring, would it survive? Or would it die and be laid to rest?

Draco knew his upbringing was different then his peers, darker and more harsh. The things he was subjected to as he was raised would call into question his families love for him and he to them. But Draco knew the reasons behind such and upbringing and was all the stronger for it. It was from this that he drew the strength for the defiance he was about to commit. For the lies he would have to weave and for the possibility of his own death in sacrifice of the goals he wished to achieve.

His father may never understand why he was going to do what he planned to, may never forgive him for the betrayal he was going to commit, and may even curse the first breath Draco ever took every time he heard his own son's name muttered… but all that mattered to Draco was that the other would be there to do so.

Family before all else.

It was with great relief that, when his Father finally called forth his anger into words, a house elf popped up beside them to relay a message from his mother. Startled, his father had released him and jerked upright, his anger now directed at the skittish elf beside him who informed him of the summons to supper.

Not wishing to stick around Draco made his excuses and walked swiftly towards his room to get cleaned up, he didn't relax until he was safely behind the darkened wood of his bedroom door and even then he waited with baited breath. When several seconds passed without his father following him in Draco let out a relieved sigh and made his way into the adjoining baths on the other side of his room.

'The first step' Draco reminded himself silently, 'almost taken, but not yet complete.'

After a very brief shower and dressing in the clothes that had been laid out for him Draco called for a house elf and followed it down to the dining hall where supper was to be served. Normally his parents preferred the third dining hall since it was smaller and had a large window that spanned an entire wall and viewed the gardens but as he walked he noticed that they where headed in a new direction.

He tried to recall the last time he had eaten in any of the dining rooms on this side of the manor but couldn't remember any. As they walked deeper into the house Draco had a cold feeling settle into his stomach that grew into a solid ball of ice when the elf opened the door for him.

There, seated at the head of the table where his father usually sat, was Lord Voldemort.

Draco was surprised at how easily he was able to snap on his inner mask as his expression relaxed and he walked without hesitation into the room. It was instinctive and he hadn't had to think about it, or worry about what he was subconsciously giving away. Should he be afraid about how easily playing this game came to him? Or should he fear what he could become because of it?

As he walked towards the table Draco's eyes scanned the room before him, curious since he couldn't ever remember actually eating in this specific one before. The room itself seemed darkened, a glass chandelier handing center to the table but unlit and left to disuse. Thankfully it was cleaner then the day it was made and well taken care of by laborious house elves despite it's lack of usage. Instead there where several candle holders that floated above the table in an almost mocking display of what Draco was used to at Hogwarts. He paid no mind to the carved stonewalls around him nor the antique furniture that decorated the room but rather he looked towards the long dining table before him.

The table sat center on one of the many old carpets the Malfoy family owned and Draco noticed that this one looked German, if he wasn't mistaken, but it was hard to tell in the dim lighting. The table itself was long, easily able to seat around fifty-two people if you took to mind the many long backed gothic style chairs that lined its sides. The color of them was a black reminiscent to charcoal, it and the chairs looking as if they had been burned viciously by fire before being carved and polished to sit into this very room. It was dark and depressing, the poor lighting made Draco believe it had been chosen to be more for scare and intimidation then preference.

When he reached the table he walked along it's length gracefully drawing nearer to those seated and waiting for him. As he had noticed before, Voldemort sat at the head of the table with his father on his right side, beside his father sat his mother who wore a polite smile but Draco could see the fire in her eyes. She wasn't happy in the least and he feared her displeasure when her eyes met his own. Thankfully they softened when they looked at him and Draco was reassured her displeasure was not with him.

On Voldemorts left sat the man he had called Wormtail, who looked out of place amongst the modest riches of the room and even more so if you compared him to the regal stance of the family seated across from him. Draco had to force himself not to sneer but he couldn't help the contempt he felt for the man.

Disgusting creature.

As he reached his mothers side he noticed another problem, usually he sat on his fathers right side. He now didn't have that option due to the Dark Lord taking his fathers place at the head of the table. He could sit with his mother across from him as he usually did but that would mean sitting near the rat of a man they called Wormtail and the very thought sickened him. So where was he to sit?

He didn't have time to think about it and his instincts and training took over once more as he kept walking until he reached the Dark Lord's chair. At a dinner party where no place was set for you it was proper for such decisions to be taken care of by the host, who sat at the head of the table. This was usually frowned upon since it brought into question the host's abilities and the guest's importance but it was considered proper etiquette and Draco felt no awkwardness in such an action.

"My Lord" Draco greeted softly, lowering his eyes in respect even if he hated to do so. "I didn't know you would grace us with your presence this evening."

With his eyes lowered he didn't see the Dark Lords pleasure at his greeting. He had no idea, that by acknowledging Voldemort first before his own parents had saved him from the others darker dinner plans for him.

"Yes" He hissed, his pleasure at the greeting clear in his voice "I had decided to get to know my hosts a bit better, it has been so long after all" Draco noticed his father tense at these words. Obviously it had been a barb towards his elder but about what was the question. One problem at a time however and Draco forced a small smile on his face as he looked up into the red slits of the Dark lord's eyes.

"I'm glad" Draco lied easily and allowed concern to filter onto his face as he looked down the table; his parents strangely silent and eyes adverted. Draco wondered if they would try to protect him should he anger the man near him or would they pretend not to hear him as he screamed.

"What troubles you little one?"

Draco forced himself to keep his expression from grimacing at the nickname. "I fear I do not know where it would please you for me to sit, Lord. Usually it is just my parents and I, I find myself woefully ignorant of the seating arrangements this evening."

The Dark Lord seemed to notice this as well and his eyes narrowed in on Wormtail sharply. "Wormtail!" He snapped and motioned sharply with his hand. Draco blinked as the other man scuttled to another seat farther down the table, at least three seats away from where he had been seated, and sat with a cowed posture that looked remarkably uncomfortable in the straight back chair.

Red eyes looked at him expectantly and Draco nodded his head in thanks as he walked around the table and took the vacant seat. The moment he sat down the chair pushed itself in tightly, jerking sharply causing Draco to nearly slam into the table in front of him, and a slight scowl appeared on his face. The charms must be going on them, he noted and muttered to himself about stupid chairs and forgetful house elves as his parents tensed. He didn't notice that he had slipped into normal behavior until a chill chuckle greeted him from his right.

Draco froze, realizing his mistake moments after he made it. Thankfully whatever madness plagued the creature next to him caused the other to find him amusing rather then an annoyance and Draco allowed himself to relax. He sat back in his chair, straightened into proper posture and waited. Usually one of his parents would start a conversation as Draco was still considered a child and etiquette dictated that he remain silent until an adult spoke to him. But No one moved, silence rained down on all seated oppressively until the Dark Lord lost all his previous amusement and started to become angry at their continued silence.

When neither his mother nor his father would look at him Draco gave up trying to catch their eye and decided to ward off whatever anger was building in the creature seated at the head of the table and risked drawing the other into conversation.

"Lord?" Draco started, almost shyly it seemed and he internally winced at his own ability to act in such a way. "May I ask about your own time at Hogawarts?" He noticed his parents look up sharply at him and internally sneered. **Now** they look. He continued on despite the misgivings that came with their reactions. In for a sickle, out for a gallon. "When I heard that you too attended I had hunted for records of you but could find none. What little there is has been vandalized." He took note of the Dark lords mannerisms as he mentioned this. The other didn't seem surprised. "I have heard whispers but none of the paintings are willing to speak to me in fear of the headmaster."

Voldemort's attention was fully on him now and Draco forced himself to appear eager and honest as he tilted his body towards the other as if wanting to lean in and share a secret. While he _was_ curious about that time of the others life his true goal was to find just how much the other knew about castle and weather or not such knowledge could be used against him in the future.

"Are you truly interested?" the Dark Lord asked him and Draco nodded in a way only a child could. The air was tense, his parents still silent but no longer ignoring him as they watched him interact with the monster near them. The bearing of teeth. The Dark Lord smiled.

"Very well."

He settled back and steeled his long skeletal fingers before himself as he gazed at the small blond who seemed eager to hear about the past. Almost like a child would beg for a story before bedtime. Voldemort decided to indulge the other just this once as they waited for their last dinner guest to arrive.

"I was found by Dumbledore himself at Wool's orphanage in London…"

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From the very first memory he had, one Severus Snape knew the world was full of pain and to live was to be condemned to misery. His mother, a weak willed and spineless witch, never did anything to protect her only child from her abusive husband and Severus grew up believing he deserved all the pain he received daily.

That is until he met Lily Evens.

Lily captured his heart the very moment he had laid eyes on her from where he hid behind a tree, and it took him several tries before he was able to summon the courage to meet her. He was only nine when he first felt the stirrings of love and not even his fathers beating later that day could do anything to douse the warmth he felt within him. The next two years only cemented the love for her and it was with great anticipation that he made his way to Hogwarts. He had been **sure** that their friendship was unbreakable, that despite all his faults she would _always_ be by his side.

So it was no wonder the next few years of his life would be hell.

He didn't even know what he did to catch their eyes but for some reason the deviants that called themselves the marauders targeted him the very moment he stepped off that train. They made sure that all the light and laughter Lily gave to him was crushed beneath their cruelty and sadism. He had no escape, with Lily in Gryffindor he could not be seen with her and his own house was cold to him due to his blood status. At home the beatings got worse and at school the bulling became more deadly, as a child he figured this was to be the punishment for previously felt happiness.

It got worse after that. Lily left him; destroying any hope he had in redeeming himself, the mongrel Black almost got him mauled to death by a werewolf and Dumbledore covered everything up.

When he became acquaintances with one Lucius Malfoy he was more then willing to do what he must to rid himself of the life he was doomed to live. He nearly killed himself when wholeheartedly threw himself into pureblood purging, when he gave up his muggle blood and studied the traditions and history with vigor.

So when he first joined the Death Eaters he truly believed in the cause and the man leading it.

But when he heard that prophesy, when believed their lord would think rationally about it; he was shocked by the others reaction. It was then he saw how truly insane the other man was, how wrong what they where doing had become and the moment he doomed the love of his life.

It was due to this emotion for her that he ran to Dumbledore.

He still regretted it.

Dumbledore told the potters of his betrayal of them, of Lily, and she wouldn't allow him to apologize. She died before he could. She died hating him. Severus knew, at that moment, that he was truly broken then. He started to revert and responded to the world as it had responded to him. The bitter taste of life was always on his tongue and nothing would ever hold any place in his damaged heart again.

Before her death he became a spy for the light yet took pleasure in the pain he caused others and he played both sides artistically. His love for Lily still throbbed painfully within him but with her death and the imprisonment of the man who nearly killed him in their youth he figured he could move on alone in the world.

How wrong he was.

He didn't know how it happened but wide grey eyes and chubby cheeks forced their way painfully into the open wounds in Severus's heart and nestled there like a cancer.

It had been around two months after the Dark Lords fall that he first met his godchild. Narcissa, ever the prepared one, had been frantic. The ministry had finally found some dirt on Lucius and had arrested him under the charge of being a Death Eater. He went willingly and quietly, confident that Narcissa would get him free. She would, she had no doubt about it, but she would not subject her child to the things she had to do. So instead she hustled him over to Spinners End and handed the one-year-old to a very confused Severus Snape.

Severus, in defense, hadn't even _known_ he was named godfather let alone that he'd have to actually watch the child. And had stood there a good twenty-three minutes before Draco opened his mouth…and wailed.

Severus, since the moment the sorting hat called out 'Slytherin', had always prided himself on thinking rationally and acting with an arrogant grace. When an explosion in second year caused a wall to collapse on him he had been cool and snide, when the marauders had pushed him into the lake when he didn't know how to swim he had been calm, so when faced with a screaming child for the first time he had acted as any calm and rational man would…and promptly panicked.

To this day Severus was immensely glade that no one had seen him at that moment and was ever thankful that Draco remembered none of it. It had taken Narcissa over a month before she even called to check up on her son and by then Severus had taken to calling Draco 'Demon' so much the child thought that was his name and refused to answer to anything else. It had shocked him, when he handed the tiny creature back to his mother, that he was sad to see the menace go.

Over the years his attachment had only increased.

He had tried to fight it, tried to make the child despise him so he could ignore the almost fatherly feelings stirring in his chest; when asked to be Draco's tutor he had heaped so much work on the poor child at a pace that would have had even Hogwarts seventh year Ravenclaws weeping for mercy. Severus knew Lucius would have thrown a tantrum at having so much work to do and would have refused to do it.

Draco finished the work and had even handed it in on time. The boy had been four-years-old, normal four year olds where coloring and learning how to sing the alphabet. Draco, on the other hand, was learning Latin, French, Spanish, Russian, and Italian. When Severus had started him on mathematics the child did so with vigor, when he had forced the boy to learn politics and history the child buckled down and worked through the boring topics with a stubbornness to rival Narcissa herself. When they started in on potions Severus had to admit defeat as they bonded over bubbling cauldrons and powdered bassalisk fang.

Draco always had a way of surprising him, always had a way of surpassing expectations and making him proud. Draco may not be his child but Severus had helped raise him and it was thanks to him that Severus once again felt hope.

So when the summons to Malfoy manor came Severus feared the outcome. How could he not, when he allowed himself to love someone again? It was a different kind of love but love all the same and it was only a matter of time before something happened.

By Morgana's braid, let it not be this day.

As he crossed the boarder of the Malfoy lands he immediately noticed the difference in the atmosphere and cursed silently. Damn Lucius endangering his family like that, because there was only one reason for the animals to disappear and the lands to be empty.

Voldemort was residing in the manor.

Severus knew he would have to resume his position as a spy sooner or later but he had hoped for the latter. He was not looking forward to all the obvious bootlicking he would have to do to convince the Dark Lord of his 'loyalty' and he had a horrible feeling that he wasn't going to survive this time around. The first time had been rough enough when he switched sides; all the scheming he had to do, the alibi's he had to create and the sleepless nights from nightmares that gripped him until morning.

Every time he was forced to face the Dark Lord he risked not being able to see the sunrise the next day. It was with this very thought plaguing him that he stepped up to the front doors and lifted the heavy blackened knocker hanging there.

BANG!

…

BANG!

…

BANG!

…

The doors opened for him almost eerily, a house elf waiting for him in the shadows to lead him to the chosen dining hall of the evening. He was a tad late, not having figured in the long walk that was forced upon him due to lack of carriages and he hoped Lucius would allow him to floo out rather then trek his way across their lands in the dark a second time. The lights of the manor were dimmed, the usual brightness of the building dampened and dark. It was depressing and morbid, something Severus figured was done purposefully to impress upon him the seriousness of his impending meeting. Intimidation tactics such as this had been the norm for the Dark Lord during his first rise and Severus was not at all surprised the other had continued with previous habits. All Severus could do was remain grateful that it was too early in the war for prisoners, for the Dark Lord often enjoyed their screams as a backdrop for when he was putting the fear of death into his subjects.

The Dark Lord was insane but at the same time he was brilliant, a tactical genius and experienced in all that was war. Severus would be hard pressed to fool the other of his intentions a second time and he knew that it wasn't just his_ own_ life on the line should he fail.

This rung true when he entered the dining hall and saw his godchild seated excessively close to the Dark Lord. Lucius's eyes found his own and his own fear was mirrored in the others as the Dark Lord paid Severus no heed as he continued on with his discussion.

"So after you retained those items where did you go?"

"I traveled, young Draco, and trained. I made myself irreplaceable and well known. I may not have used my birth name but many still remember me, should I ever return in need of a favor. "

Severus's ears had to strain to hear the conversation even as close as he was. Standing right next to Lucius's chair he waited to be acknowledged by the vile snake creature sitting near him. He had to repress a shiver as the Dark Lord's eyes slipped over him and the others face contorted in what Severus had to assume was a grin. The Dark Wizard leaned closer to the child near him when the other became inquisitive again.

"Did you ever go back?" he asked, wide eyed and seemingly awed by the creature he was speaking to.

"Yes ten years after my encounter with Smith I appealed for the position once more, for who better then I should train our wizarding youth." A horrible expression crossed his face then "It was all for naught, for Dippet had stepped down and Dumbledore took his place as headmaster." Severus noted the other spoke Dumbledore's name as he spoke of Black and Draco spoke of Potter. The rivalry and hatred a common theme it seemed.

"My true desire was not teaching however, but rather an urge to get to know my own home better" Red eyes flashed "But I was refused a position that was rightfully mine. I had it cursed until I died or Dumbledore came to his senses." A low chuckle caused all the adults at the table to shudder. Draco, Severus noted, was shockingly calm.

"But I am immortal and Dumbledore is a fool"

Silence descended as Draco leaned back and seemed to be process all of what he had been told. Severus had never felt a stronger desire to look into another person's mind as he did now. Merlin's Beard, what was that child up to?

"So this is why we never have the same teacher for more then a year?" He inquired and Voldemort laughed. His hand reaching over and trailing a finger down Draco's face, there was no reaction from him save for staring unnervingly at the Dark Lord.

"Yes, One year. It is all I was willing to concede."

Draco's face pouted. "Well you'll be pleased to know that we're learning bollocks in that class."

"Draco!" Came Narcissa's scolding gasp and Draco's eyes widened as he slowly turned to face his mother, Seemingly having forgotten she was there.

"We do not use such language in this house! Especially in front of company, now apologize to our guests for your foul mouth and no dessert for you young man!"

"Mother…"

"Ne pas utiliser ce ton avec moi! Vous savez mieux. "

Draco huffed, but wisely let the subject drop and Voldemort chuckled at the display. Severus suddenly felt cold with the knowledge that the foul creature found Draco amusing. This would not end well he was sure of it, Damn the child and his apatite for discord! Plans would have to be made should the worse ever come to pass. Narcissa caught Severus's eye and he knew she too was thinking along the same lines. Her gaze drew Voldemort's attention back to his spy and Severus stiffened under it, it was time to play the game once more.

"Severus, How kind of you to join us."


End file.

Harry Potter